Archive of Our Own ^beta

It all starts during Minho’s third year of university.

The thought had honestly never crossed his mind. He’d played guitar for his entire life, making it second nature at this point. While he loves playing guitar more than anything, he’d never thought it would become anything more than a hobby.

When Changbin springs the idea on him halfway through Minho’s education degree, he can’t help but be slightly skeptical.

“What do you mean, start a band?” Minho grumbles, narrowing his eyes.

They’re sitting in the school library, working on their homework. Minho’s patience is running thin after trying to decipher his literature assignment for the past hour, so he hopes this isn’t another one of Changbin’s stupid ideas.

Changbin juts out his bottom lip. “Come on, just hear me out!”

Minho had met Changbin – a second-year exercise science major – in his statistics class the year before. He’d found Changbin funny and easy to talk to, which made their friendship inevitable. After getting to know him, Minho eventually learned that Changbin plays the bass guitar and writes songs during his free time. He’d even gotten the chance to read some of Changbin’s lyrics. He couldn’t deny it; they were beautiful songs.

Minho leans back in his seat and crosses his arms across his chest, fixing his gaze on Changbin. “Alright.”

Changbin exhales and pushes his laptop to the side. “You know how I can’t sing for shit?”

“Yup.”

“Or play any instruments other than the bass?”

“Absolutely.”

Changbin scowls at Minho’s teasing remarks but plows on. “Those songs I’ve written are just sitting around, collecting dust. My own voice and my shitty music production app never do them justice. You have kickass guitar skills. If we had you on lead guitar, me on bass guitar, then found someone to sing and a couple of extra people on instruments…”

Minho nods along. “You’d finally be able to release your songs.”

Changbin smiles sheepishly. “Yeah. But I’ve always wanted to do something like this, you know? Be in a band with people I love, doing the stuff I love. Even if nothing comes of it, wouldn’t it still be fun? Making music together?”

Minho chews on his lip in thought. He has to admit that it does sound fun. His childhood dream had always been to be in a world-famous band, playing their songs on a fancy guitar for a huge crowd. Sure, they’d never get to that level of fame, but it might be fun to perform now and then.

Hell, if he had to pick anyone to do it with, it would be Changbin.

Fuck it.

He shrugs. “Okay.”

Changbin blinks at him. “Wait, really?”

Minho pulls his laptop back towards himself, resuming his assignment. “Wouldn’t do any harm, would it?”

A grin stretches across Changbin’s face.

The process snowballs from there.

The first person they recruit is Minho’s younger brother, Felix. As a kid, Felix had seen his brother start to play guitar and immediately insisted on being included in the music scene. After some consideration, he decided to try learning piano. Of course, he fell in love. Minho had performed with his brother countless times growing up, so he knew Felix was more than qualified for the job. Felix loves music just as much as his older brother, so as a wide-eyed first year, he jumps at the opportunity of being the keyboardist in a band.

The next addition to the band comes from Changbin’s suggestion: a second-year student named Hwang Hyunjin. Changbin met him in one of his classes and became close with him quickly. He found out Hyunjin played the drums and talked him into coming to a rehearsal to try it out. It’s almost scary the way the four of them instantly click as musicians.

The final member is brought in by Felix. They’re desperate for a lead vocalist, so one day Felix comes waltzing in with one of his first-year friends. He introduces him as Kim Seungmin, explaining that he’s his best friend and has “one of the best voices in the entire school.”

Of course, Felix isn’t wrong. Seungmin has a melodic voice that hits every note with ease. His voice molds into any type of song; upbeat, intense, melancholy, you name it. Listening to him sing is like a warm blanket, and Changbin’s songs sound beautiful in Seungmin’s voice. 

With the band formed, they jump into rehearsals. They start by learning songs from artists they’re inspired by, including Paramore and Nirvana. Once they work out their rhythm as a group, they move on to learning some of Changbin’s songs. They figure out what they want their sound to be, and Minho can hear Changbin’s visions coming to life.

One evening, Changbin is showing them one of his scrapped songs. It’s called “Murk,” and is about finding one’s self through experiences that are hard to understand; finding clarity in the murky parts of life. Changbin explains that he couldn’t work out the right words to use or imagine how the song would sound, so he scrapped it.

As Minho stares at the lyrics scribbled in Changbin’s notebook, something about the song’s meaning lights a spark in him.

“That’s not a bad name for the band,” He blurts.

The rest of the group turns to him, confused.

“...What isn’t?” Hyunjin asks, furrowing his eyebrows.

Minho reaches down and taps the title at the top of the page. “Murk. We need a name for the band if we want to perform, don’t we? Something about this just seems right.” He turns to his bandmates. “You guys hear it, don’t you? It sounds good to say it. Hello, we are Murk!”

Minho looks around at his bandmates. The room is silent. Minho is about to get embarrassed by his idea, but then Felix slowly nods. A tentative smile grows on his face. “I like it.”

The rest of the band likes it, too, so it’s decided. They’re officially known as Murk.

It’s casual, the five of them playing together. They rehearse once a week, learning Changbin’s songs or practicing covers. Changbin and Seungmin even write a couple of songs together. They manage to book regular performances at small bars or clubs on campus and release a new song every few months. Through mutual friends – as well as enough performances – they grow a very small fanbase of students and locals.

Sometimes, people approach them after their shows and tell them they’re “too good” to be an unknown band of college kids. Changbin usually laughs and replies with something along the lines of: “We dream big, but we’re happy with what we have.” 

For two years, Murk’s schedule consists of an easy, constant stream of performances and rehearsals. It never becomes anything stressful.

That is, until Seungmin announces that he’s leaving the band.

They’re all sitting in Seungmin’s living room, as he had invited them over for the evening. The semester had just started, and it’s obvious their schedules are going to be very different; Minho had graduated the year before and is now working at a breakfast diner while he figures out his next steps. Changbin and Hyunjin are in their final semester, while Felix and Seungmin are both finishing up their third year.

“What are you talking about?” Felix whispers, a horrified look on his face.

Seungmin stares at his feet dejectedly. “I’m way too busy to keep up with Murk. I know we don’t do a lot, but… I’m pre-med. I just started that internship. It’s obvious my classes are going to take up a lot of my time. I don’t think I’ll be a very reliable member, especially because I’m the lead vocalist.”

He frowns and his gaze darts back up. He makes sure he looks each of his bandmates in the eye as he speaks. Minho notices the tears that begin to well up. “At the end of the day, my main priority and passion is my career. You guys know that. I love singing, and I love Murk, but it was always just a hobby for me. I know that’s not true for you guys, but… it is for me. This is what I have to do. I’m sorry.”

Hyunjin chews on his lip worriedly. “We could adjust our schedule so it isn’t as time-consuming. Maybe we could rehearse every other week? Perform less often?”

Seungmin laughs dryly. “We’d barely be doing shows if we performed any less than we already do. I can’t ask you guys to do that for me.”

Minho doesn’t know what to say. He can’t imagine Murk without Seungmin. He realizes he has no idea what they’re going to do after this, and his stomach drops. He wants to beg Seungmin to stay, but he can’t allow himself to talk Seungmin out of doing what he needs to do. So he doesn’t say anything.

The group is silent for a minute. The air sits heavily on their shoulders, and the realization of what this means for the band begins to set in. Minho can’t look at his friends’ faces, afraid that he might burst into tears, so he fixes his gaze on the wall behind Seungmin. Since when did this band mean so much to him?

After a while, Felix takes a shaky breath. Minho turns to his brother to see a single tear rolling down his cheek. “Well, it was fun while it lasted, right?”

Seungmin flashes a bittersweet smile at Felix, lightly shoving at his knee. “Yeah, Yongbokkie.” He chokes on Felix’s Korean name. “It was. But I bet you guys will find someone just as good as me.”

—

“We’re not replacing Seungmin.”

The four remaining bandmates walk away from Seungmin’s apartment building together, the cool nighttime breeze like daggers on their skin.

Changbin turns to Minho in disbelief. “The fuck you mean, we’re not? You want us to split up?”

“Of course not. But we’re not replacing him. Nobody is going to live up to him and it’ll never be the same.”

“What are we supposed to do then?” Hyunjin huffs, kicking a pebble. “Have songs without any vocals?”

“No. You can sing. Felix can sing.”

“Our voices are nowhere near being equivalent to Seungmin’s. How is that any different from getting a new lead singer, anyway?”

“Because you guys have been here since the beginning!” Minho snaps. “No way are we letting some stranger join our band, especially not as the lead vocalist!”

Changbin pauses, and the rest of the group follows his lead. He sighs and gives Minho a pointed look. “There’s not much else we can do here, Minho. Not having a lead vocalist is a death sentence.”

Minho stubbornly crosses his arms. “Working with a stranger is also a death sentence.”

“No, it’s–!” Changbin throws his hands in the air. “You don’t even want to give it a try?”

“Not really, no.”

“Okay, I have a proposition.” Felix cuts in. “All of us want to try to find a new lead vocalist except you, Minho. Let’s make a compromise: We’ll have auditions for a lead vocalist. Enough people on campus know about us; we’ll get some applicants. If literally nobody stands out to you as a potential lead vocalist, we’ll continue without one. Is that good enough for you?”

Minho narrows his eyes at his brother, then glances at the other two. They’re all staring, waiting for him to make a decision.

Finally, he begrudgingly sighs in defeat. “Fine. But nobody is going to stand out, I promise you that.”

—

They make flyers with bold letters written on them: “MURK IS LOOKING FOR A LEAD VOCALIST; DO YOU HAVE WHAT IT TAKES?” In between the two lines of text is a picture of the band performing, energy high with Seungmin’s eyes screwed shut as he sings into the microphone. Minho can’t help but feel a twinge of sadness as he prints out the flyers.

At the bottom of each sheet is their Instagram handle along with a QR code that leads to a SignUpGenius page. There, people can book a slot for a ten-minute audition. This will go from 4-6 PM for three days. Minho is dreading it.

Between the four of them, they put over fifty flyers all over campus and post an ad about it on their band’s Instagram, leaving the link in their bio. Then they sit back and wait, watching the signup page with anticipation.

To Minho’s shock, the slots fill up.

It’s a slow trickle at first, a couple of applicants coming in every few hours. But word must spread quickly on campus, because every time they check on it more people have signed up at a faster rate than before. Within a week, all 24 auditions are booked.

They manage to reserve a study room in their school’s library for those three days. Once the first day of auditions rolls around, they go in at 3:30 to begin setting up. They pull the table to the far wall of the room, facing their chairs towards the door that the applicants come in through. They each have a notepad and pen to take notes with, but Minho highly doubts he’ll be using his.

With that, the auditions begin. They’re just as Minho had expected they’d be: pointless. Some of the people that come in are great singers, he’ll admit, but none of them scream Murk. None of them have what Murk’s old lead vocalist had. Minho spends most of his time zoning out, listening to song after song, trying to ignore his bandmates" glares when he shows no interest.

Even so, some of the auditions are simply terrible. Minho is not kind enough to deny that.

At the end of the second day of auditions, they’re strolling back to Minho’s car to carpool home. The other three bandmates are in a deep conversation about their applicants.

“What’d you think of that one guy? I think his name was… Wonjin? A second-year?”

“He was good, I liked him!”

“Do you think he’d sound good on our songs, though?”

“No,” Minho deadpans from the front.

Felix slaps the back of his head. “Be nice.”

“I’m being very nice.” Minho rubs his head and looks at his bandmates over his shoulder. “He’s good, but his voice doesn’t fit our sound.”

“You’ve said that about everyone,” Hyunjin grumbles.

“Because it’s true.”

The final day of auditions arrives, and they set up the room all over again. They sit down at the table, Minho on the far left with Changbin seated to his right. Before the first person comes in, Changbin leans in and whispers into Minho’s ear.

“Try to keep an open mind, yeah? This is the band’s future we’re messing with right now. Think about that.”

The auditions begin, and yet again, nobody sticks out. Minho prepares himself to brag about being right. 

But for some reason, being right this time doesn’t feel as satisfying as it normally does.

They’re halfway through their auditions for the day when Minho glances down at the list of people still left. The next name on the schedule is someone named Han Jisung, set to come in any second now. Minho sits back in his chair and sighs, ready to be disappointed.

As if he’d been summoned, the door flies open, and in bustles a boy who looks to be around Felix or Seungmin’s age. He has jet-black hair that’s slightly overgrown, and big, round eyes that dart back and forth between the band members sitting before him. He flashes a nervous yet charming smile as he shuffles into place.

“Han Jisung?” Changbin asks, his voice calm and welcoming. Minho wants to scoff.

The boy nods enthusiastically. “Yep! I’m Jisung, and I’m a third-year music major. I’ve been singing for my entire life, and I’ve always wanted to be in a band.” His cheeks turn red and he rubs the back of his neck. “I know that’s corny, but I’ve never found anyone with the sound I was looking for. I’ve heard you guys perform; sometimes I go to that club you play at. Every time I see you all on stage I just…” He trails off, shrugging helplessly. “Wish I was right up there with you.”

Changbin grins at him. “That’s great to hear, Jisung. Well, my name’s Changbin.” He gestures to his bandmates. “This is Minho, Felix, and Hyunjin. We’re all excited to hear what you’ve got for us.”

Speak for yourself, Minho retorts in his head.

Jisung bites his lip in anticipation. “Thank you. I’m sorry to hear about your original lead vocalist, by the way.”

Changbin waves a dismissive hand. “That’s okay. You ready to go?”

Jisung nods, bouncing on his toes. Minho wonders if it’s an anxious habit or if he’s just excited to sing for them.

“Alright, start whenever you’d like.”

Minho leans back in his chair. He crosses his arms over his chest and exhales through his nose, ready to sit through another dull audition.

That’s honestly what he thought it would be. Until Jisung starts singing.

When Jisung opens his mouth, Minho freezes. His voice. His voice is nothing like Seungmin’s. His voice is like a knife, tearing you open and ripping your heart out. Slashing you apart and leaving your emotions leaking out for everyone to see. He sings of heartbreak, loneliness, and of red-hot anger, and Minho feels it all bubbling inside him. While he’s nothing like Seungmin, something about the way Jisung sings leaves Minho clinging onto every lyric.

He sways to the rhythm, hitting every beat with ease. His eyes are closed, yet raw emotion is painted on his face. Minho feels his heart stutter and can’t stop himself from unabashedly staring at the boy standing before him.

Then Jisung starts rapping. Fuck, he starts rapping.

Icy hot syllables drip from his lips. Minho absentmindedly feels himself take his notebook into his hands with a death grip, just to have something to hold onto. Jisung raps one verse, his voice still eerily melodic and sharp. It’s unusual for someone to be able to pull off rapping and singing in the same song and make it work, but Jisung does it with ease.

He goes back to singing during the bridge. His voice gets soft, nearly whispering the lyrics as he sings. Minho could be convinced that Jisung is about to burst into tears with the controlled shake in his tone. 

Right when Minho thinks he’s about to break, he begins to belt at the end of the song. Chills run up and down Minho’s spine as he hits high notes that most people would strain to sing.

Minho feels like he’s on the edge of fainting when Jisung finishes the song. He’d never had such a visceral reaction to someone’s voice. He can’t tear his gaze away, sure that his eyes are as wide as saucers. 

The room is quiet. Jisung slowly opens his eyes, slightly out of breath as he glances nervously between the band members. God, Minho can’t stop staring.

Finally, Hyunjin breaks the silence. “You put your contact information down when you signed up for the audition, right?”

Jisung nods for the third time. “Yeah, of course.”

“Right,” Changbin says. His voice is softer than it had been earlier. “Thank you so much, Jisung. You’re free to go, we’ll get back to you soon.”

We’ll get back to you soon. That was the first time Changbin had said something like that to any of the applicants.

Jisung flashes a dazzling smile at them as he starts to back towards the door. “Thank you for your time! I hope you’ll consider me!”

And with that, he’s gone.

Still shell-shocked, Minho turns to look at the rest of the band. They all seem as astonished as he is, their eyes wild and sparkling with hope.

Upon seeing the look on Minho’s face, Felix smiles smugly.

Minho attempts to school his expression. “What are you looking at?” 

Felix shrugs. “It’s safe to say we’ve found a viable option, right?”

Minho doesn’t respond. He doesn’t think “option” is the right word to use.

—

They finish the rest of the auditions. None of them live up to Jisung. 

When Minho expresses this to the rest of the band, he isn’t surprised to hear them agree. Of course, they all tease him about it. Minho hates admitting when he’s wrong.

A few days later, Changbin sends Jisung a text inviting him to one of their rehearsals to try singing with the group. He suggests that Jisung learns their song “Insomnia”, to which Jisung responds: perfect!! i already know that one!!!

That Wednesday, Minho drives over to Hyunjin’s house with his guitar in the trunk of his car. Butterflies of anticipation flutter in his stomach.

When he arrives, he sends Hyunjin a quick text letting him know that he’s out front. Hyunjin lets him in through the front door and leads him toward the basement. Upon going down the steps, Minho sees that everyone has already arrived, including Jisung.

Jisung is mid-conversation with Felix, gesturing wildly with his hands as he speaks with an animated face. He glances at Minho as he enters the room, faltering for a moment. His cheeks flush a slight pink, and he gives Minho a shy wave before returning to the conversation. Minho knows he can come off as intimidating at first, so he isn’t offended by Jisung’s awkwardness at the sight of him.

Changbin strolls over to Minho. “I can tell Jisung and Felix are going to get along well.”

Minho spares a look at his friend. “Yeah?”

Changbin nods. “They’re literally the same person. Energy, sense of humor, loveability. They’re even the same age; did you know their birthdays are only one day apart?” He snorts. "Incredible. It’ll be great for performance chemistry, and all that.”

Minho scoffs. “You talk as if he’s already in the band.”

Changbin gives him a pointed look. “Come on, Minho.”

Hyunjin claps his hands, interrupting their conversation. “Alright! Since everyone’s here, can we get started?” 

The rest of the group murmurs in agreement and begins setting up.

Minho pulls out his guitar, plugs it in, and takes his place to the right of Hyunjin’s drumset. He strums a few chords to warm his fingers up before flexing his hands and rolling his shoulders in preparation.

He glances at Jisung. He’s bouncing on his toes, the same way he had before his audition. His hands are gripping the microphone, which is still on the mic stand. Minho can’t see his face. He wonders if he’s nervous.

But before he can linger on that thought, Hyunjin is counting them off. He strums the first chords of Insomnia.

Then Jisung’s voice is coming through the speakers.

It’s electric, hearing Jisung sing their music. He gives the song a different spin from what Seungmin had done with it, but the change isn’t unwelcome. He starts the song off with a calm yet sturdy voice as he sings about what the name of the song implies: being unable to sleep.

Then the pre-chorus begins, and he sings with a stronger tone. He pulls the microphone away from the mic stand and begins moving around the room, his body moving with the rhythm of the music. He’s fully immersed in the song, allowing the lyrics to be displayed through his expressions as well as his voice.

Then the instruments cut for a beat. Jisung sings the first line of the chorus, and they all start playing at full blast.

It’s amazing to watch it unfold. Jisung jumps around the room, beaming as he listens to the band do their thing for the first half of the chorus. Out of the corner of his eye, Minho sees Felix and Changbin sporting identical grins as they watch Jisung dance along to the music.

Once again, Minho’s eyes are stuck on Jisung. Watching him perform makes Minho wonder how he’d ever doubted him.

Before Minho can realize what’s happening, Jisung is twirling to face him. As if he could sense Minho’s eyes on his back, they lock eyes as Jisung bops his head to the music. Minho feels embarrassment flash hot in his ears at being caught but refuses to look away.

Jisung’s eyes widen the slightest bit at Minho’s intense gaze, but he doesn’t falter in his movements. He flashes a timid smile at Minho before turning away and belting the second half of the chorus.

They run through the rest of the song. Minho is just as impressed as he’d been at the audition, if not more so. Seeing how well Jisung fits into their group is a little creepy.

When they finish, Jisung spins around to face them. He’s breathing hard from dancing around the room, a giant smile stretched across his face.

“That went well, right? It wasn’t just in my head?”

Minho turns towards his bandmates. Felix and Hyunjin are practically buzzing with energy, and Changbin isn’t much better.

“You’re amazing, Jisung!” Hyunjin blurts. “The way you sing, and the way you feel the lyrics and move while performing, it’s just…” He fumbles wildly with his hands to compensate for the fact that he’s unable to find the right words. “You said you’ve never been in a band?”

Jisung bites back his smile and shakes his head.

Hyunjin laughs giddily, wiping a hand down his face. “No way. I don’t believe you.”

Jisung smiles before clasping his hands behind his back and planting his feet in place. “So, what’s the verdict?”

Minho watches Felix and Hyunjin both nod fervently at Changbin. Changbin trains his excited eyes on Minho. 

Minho doesn’t say anything. He simply raises his eyebrows and prays that Changbin can read his expression.

Changbin grins. “Welcome to Murk, Jisung.”

—

They resume their regular schedule with some changes. Instead of rehearsing once a week, they try doing it twice a week until Jisung gets a hang of everything. Every Wednesday and Saturday, they meet in Hyunjin’s basement to practice. They decide to take some time off performances to let Jisung learn all of their songs, which doesn’t prove to be difficult when Jisung already knows a few of them. Throughout the rehearsals, they listen to him sing and give him pointers on the vibe they’re going for, things to change, and things to keep doing. Jisung takes each critique in his stride, and their flow as a band gets better each time they rehearse.

As time goes on, it’s obvious that they made the right decision letting Jisung join Murk. He’s personable and sweet, and Minho can see a strong friendship blossoming between him and the other members.

And yeah, Minho thinks Jisung is a great addition to the band, but that doesn’t mean he’s going to let him know it so soon.

He isn’t being mean. He just makes sure to keep his distance and to hold back on over-complimenting Jisung when it isn’t necessary. He still isn’t completely sure what to expect from Jisung, so he doesn’t want to get comfortable too quickly.

Two weeks after the addition of their new lead singer, they’re finishing up their Saturday evening rehearsal. Minho is packing up his guitar when Jisung slinks up next to him. “So, what made you start playing guitar?”

Minho blinks up at him from where he’s squatting next to his guitar case. They’d never really talked before. Sure, Minho has gone through formalities and regularly gives him notes while practicing, but they’d never had an actual conversation. 

“What made you start singing?” He retorts.

Jisung blinks down at Minho for a moment before smiling nervously and crossing his arms. “Answer my question!”

Minho stands up, slinging the strap on his guitar case over his shoulder. “Why do you ask?”

Jisung fidgets under Minho’s gaze, rocking back and forth on his heels. “Well, you know! You and Changbin did start the band, so obviously I’m curious. I already asked Changbin the other day, and he told me that his mom gave him a bass guitar for his eleventh birthday, which he fell in love with. You know, I actually had a super similar experience! When I was thirteen…”

He’s rambling, Minho realizes. He suppresses a laugh. The volume of Jisung’s voice has risen about ten notches above his regular speaking voice. Minho wonders how this kid is the same one with a voice like daggers when he performs.

God, Minho knows that he can be unnerving, but he didn’t think he was that scary.

“How’d you know Changbin and I started the band?” Minho interrupts Jisung’s babbling, and the vocalist freezes.

“Felix told me.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Minho fixes an intense gaze on Jisung, allowing the younger boy’s cheeks to flare up. Then he starts laughing.

“You don’t have to be so scared of me, you know,” He chuckles, patting Jisung’s shoulder. “I’m not going to kill you.”

Jisung frowns at that, looking genuinely confused. “I’m not scared of you. Why would I be scared of you?”

The sudden change in Jisung’s attitude is jarring. The rambling mess that he’d been a second ago has completely disappeared. 

Minho pauses and tilts his head to the side. “I don’t know. Sometimes people tell me I’m intimidating.”

Jisung stares flatly at Minho. “Okay? Intimidating people have never bothered me.”

Minho furrows his eyebrows and gestures at Jisung’s red cheeks. “Why’re you all nervous, then?”

That earns Minho the reaction he’d been seeking. Jisung’s hands suddenly have Jisung’s undivided attention as he begins fidgeting again, his face somehow turning an even darker crimson. “I’m not nervous,” He mumbles.

Minho flashes Jisung a look that’s a mix of confusion and amusement before he brushes past him, making his way up the basement stairs. “Whatever you say, Jisung.”

—

After a month of perfecting their sound, they decide that they’re ready to make their debut with Jisung as their lead vocalist. They manage to book a gig at their regular club on a Friday night, so they know they’ll at least have an audience.

They come up with a short setlist: they’ll open with Booster, then play Awkward Silence, do a cover song, and finish up with Insomnia. They’re good songs to play at this specific club, as the people there are usually looking for a fun, lighthearted experience.

They each style themselves accordingly, sticking with dark clothes and light makeup. Minho wears an oversized graphic t-shirt and black cargo pants, pushing his hair back so that only a few strands of his fringe rest on his forehead. He decides to throw some brown eyeliner on as well, just for the hell of it.

When they meet up at the club an hour before their set, Minho notices that Jisung has put effort into his look. He’s dressed much nicer than usual, with a silver chain around his neck and earrings dangling from his earlobes. His dark bangs are falling into his eyes and he sports noticeable black eyeliner. He looks good.

With help from the club’s staff, they get the stage set up. More people filter in as the night goes on, and Minho watches from the bar as the room gets more and more crowded. Before he knows it, it’s five minutes before their set. Minho and his bandmates are backstage, preparing to go on. There are over thirty people in front of the stage, mingling and waiting to hear Murk perform.

Minho is going through his pre-show ritual of stretching out every single limb of his body when he notices Jisung. He’s standing off to the side, away from the other members as he bites his nails. He’s staring out at the crowd with wide eyes, but his gaze is missing the spark of excitement that normally appears before he performs.

Minho frowns and takes a quick look at the rest of the band. They’re all in a zone, unaware of Jisung’s state as they use the remaining minutes to practice their parts. Minho turns back to Jisung, who hasn’t budged an inch.

Minho sighs and makes his way over to him.

He nudges Jisung’s shoulder with his own, startling him out of his stupor. When Jisung realizes it’s Minho, he flashes a tight-lipped smile before turning back to stare at the crowd.

“You nervous?” Minho asks.

Jisung glances at him. “Of course I am.”

“Why? I mean, it’s a larger crowd than we’re used to, but it isn’t that bad.”

Jisung gestures at the hoard of people. “These people have a preconception of what the performance is going to be. Their expectations are bound to be high, and I’m a brand new face right up at the front. What if I don’t meet those expectations? If I screw this up, I could jeopardize the band.”

Minho sighs. “I should’ve known you’d be an overthinker.”

Jisung glares at him.

Minho turns his entire body to face Jisung. “Look, you’re not going to mess anything up. We picked you for a reason, didn’t we? You’re good.”

Jisung finally tears his eyes away from the crowd, blinking owlishly at Minho. “You think I’m good?”

Minho scoffs. “Why would I ever allow you to join the band if I didn’t?” He firmly places his hands on Jisung’s shoulders, staring him right in the eye. “You’re a great singer and an even better performer. You have no reason to be nervous right now.” He jabs a finger into Jisung’s chest, then at the crowd. “You’re Han Fucking Jisung; make sure everyone out there knows that by the end of the night.”

Jisung stares at the guitarist, and Minho begins to worry that he’d gone overboard with his words. What happened to “keeping his distance”?

But then Jisung’s signature heart-shaped beam appears, and Minho knows he’s won.

—

Minho’s pep talk must have worked, because shit, Jisung is on fire that night.

To be fair, they’re all on fire. There’s something invigorating about making a comeback after hitting what they’d thought to be rock bottom. Minho watches his bandmates as he plays. Hyunjin’s long hair flies all over the place as he bangs his head to the music, Felix’s fingers dance over the keyboard that he’s nearly melting into, and Changbin practically vibrates with his guitar. Even Minho feels himself moving on his own accord, his body jerking and swaying involuntarily to the music.

Jisung is on a whole other level. It’s as if he’s transformed into a different person. He jumps all around the stage, completely weightless. As he sings, he switches between folding into his microphone and leaning back so far that Minho is convinced his back might break. He weaves in and out of the other band members’ personal spaces, locking eyes with each of them as he does. He bends over the edge of the stage and into the crowd, getting into their faces as he croons into the microphone. It’s as if being in front of a crowd makes Jisung possessed. On top of his phenomenal stage presence, his voice never wavers; he’s just as stable as he would be if he were sitting still.

The crowd loves it. They dance to the music, cheering throughout the set. Most of their eyes are glued to Jisung, enraptured by him. Only three or four people in the crowd seem to know the lyrics to the songs, but that’s not unusual. The rest of them are having fun, so maybe they’ll become fans.

Once again, Minho is blown away by the advancement in Jisung’s talent. It truly seems like Jisung was born to be the lead singer of a band. Minho gets so caught up in Jisung’s performance at times that he has to remind himself to keep playing his own part.

When they finish their set, the five of them are sticky with sweat. Minho breathes hard, running his tired fingers through his damp hair. He watches as Jisung stumbles away from the front of the stage and towards the rest of the band.

When they all line up to take a bow, Felix snatches Jisung’s microphone away, clasping Jisung’s hand and throwing it into the air. 

“Let’s hear it for Han Jisung,” He booms through the speakers, “Murk’s new lead vocalist!”

The crowd erupts into applause and cheers. Minho leans over to look at Jisung, and his heart warms to see the vocalist grinning from ear to ear.

-

The five of them sit at a table together, their adrenaline still running high as they laugh and talk about the performance. Every so often, someone will come up to them to compliment their set or wish them luck in the future. A couple of people even told them that they saved some songs to their playlists.

The night is beginning to wind down, and a girl is performing calming ballads. Minho and his bandmates have started coming down from their high as they sit and listen to the girl sing.

“Excuse me.”

The five of them turn to see a woman standing next to their table. She seems like she could be around Minho’s age, maybe a bit older. She’s pretty. Her black hair is styled in a bob and she’s dressed sharply. She has a kind face, her expression polite yet businesslike.

“You’re Murk, right?”

Changbin nods. “That’s right.”

The woman grabs a chair from the empty table next to them and pulls it up, sitting between Jisung and Hyunjin. “My name is Park Jihyo. I’m a recruiter for Oasis Records, and I think you guys could be a great addition to the label.”

The band gawks at her.

After seconds of elongated silence, Jisung ruins the moment. “Oasis Records?”

Oasis Records is a record label that’s famous nationwide. Many notable artists and bands have originated from Oasis Records. What’s even more exciting? Their headquarters is a mere thirty minute drive from the university campus.

It’s common for students at the university to try to book auditions with the label, but most of the time they’re unsuccessful. If Oasis Records is famous for one thing, it would be for the fact that they are incredibly selective about who they sign. Recruiters are few and far between, auditions are impossible to book, and the producers there are exceedingly picky about who they’ll work with. In fact, they hadn’t signed anyone for the past six months. 

This is why Minho unabashedly laughs at this woman’s claim. 

“Yeah, okay,” He drawls sarcastically.

Changbin kicks him under the table.

Jihyo smiles in Minho’s direction. “I understand why you wouldn’t believe me, but I’m not making this up. The label has been looking for a new artist for a while now, but as you know, we’re very… particular with who we sign.”

“You can say that again,” Minho mutters.

Changbin kicks him harder.

“I’ve been to this club too many times to count,” Jihyo continues. “I’ve seen you guys perform before, a few times. But you.” She snaps and points at Jisung. “You’re new.”

Jisung’s eyes widen and he nods fervently. “Yes, as of a month ago.”

Jihyo clicks her tongue. “Right. Well,” She addresses the rest of the table. “You guys have always been good. A good band with potential. I enjoyed watching you four perform, as well as your previous lead vocalist. But you never quite had the oomph that we’re looking for. However, with him,” She gestures to Jisung. “You do.”

Minho’s heart stutters. 

What if Jihyo really is from Oasis Records? 

He glances at Jisung. The younger boy’s jaw has dropped, his cheeks tinged light pink at the praise.

Jihyo continues. “Are you all familiar with Bang Chan? A producer at Oasis?”

Changbin’s back straightens like a rod. “Are we familiar with him?”

Minho and Changbin are more than familiar with Bang Chan’s work. Changbin had admired the guy’s music for years; it was all he ever talked about in their early university years.

Jihyo smirks at Changbin’s reaction. “I’ll take that as a yes. I think he’d love to work with a band like yours.”

Changbin’s mouth opens and closes like a fish out of water. The rest of the band isn’t much better.

Jihyo reaches into her jacket pocket before pulling out a slip of paper and sliding it into the center of the table. “Oasis Records is hard to get signed to, but your best bet is to be recommended by a producer there. Chan is very picky. He turns down most of the collaboration offers he gets, and only makes recommendations to the label for artists he’d want to work with long term.” She pauses, drumming her fingers on the table. “But here’s the thing: I’m even pickier than he is.”

She taps the card she’s pushed toward them. “This is his business card. His phone number and email address are both on there. If you call, make sure you say that Jihyo gave you this number, and I’m sure he’ll let you play a few songs for him. Whether he wants to continue working with you depends on that performance.”

Minho picks up the card to examine it. Sure enough, written at the top in bold letters is Bang Chan’s name, followed by a phone number, email address, and website.

“Holy fuck,” Hyunjin mutters, then starts at his own words as if he hadn’t meant to curse. He turns to Jihyo, his eyes sparkling. “You have no idea how grateful we are for this opportunity, holy–”

Jihyo pats Hyunjin’s hand, amused by his enthusiasm. “I wouldn’t be doing this if the five of you weren’t worth it.” Then she stands up, moving the chair she’d been sitting in back to its original table. 

She points at each of them individually. “I’m rooting for you. Don’t let me down.”

Then she’s walking away, leaving the band to gape at her back.

There’s another wave of quiet across the table. Then Minho slams the business card down on the table.

“I still think it’s a scam.”

“Shut up, Minho!”

—

The next afternoon, the band has an emergency meeting.

They’re all crowded in Changbin’s living room. Felix and Jisung are pressed against either side of Changbin, trying to listen in on the sounds coming from his phone call. Minho and Hyunjin sit on the floor in front of the couch the other boys are sitting on.

Before making the call, Minho brings up the possibility that this might not be real once again. It seems too good to be true; how could they possibly be scouted just like that?

In response to that, Jisung argues that even if it is a scam, what’s the harm in trying? In the worst case scenario, they’d schedule a meeting and then show up at Oasis Records headquarters to find out that there never was a meeting. They’d be embarrassed, then they’d go home to pretend nothing happened.

That made Minho feel a little better.

Now, they sit and wait as they listen to the ringback tone on Changbin’s phone go off. Once. Twice. Three times. And then–

Changbin sits up straighter, his knee beginning to bounce as he listens to the voice on the other end of the call.

“H-Hi!” He stutters. “Could I speak with Bang Chan, please?”

He pauses. Changbin’s eyes widen comically.

“Oh…! Oh, okay, um, hello! My name is Seo Changbin. Park Jihyo gave me your number and told me that you’re looking for a new artist to work with. I’m in a band, and we’d love to play for you sometime… Yes, Park Jihyo…” He listens, then smiles nervously at whatever the other person says. “Murk! The band is called Murk.”

The other four band members watch on the edge of their seats as Changbin stands up and begins to pace back and forth.

“...Yes, three PM works for us! …Okay… Alright, we will! Thank you so much, you have no idea how much this means to us… Will do! … Got it, see you soon! Thank you again!”

He ends the call with shaky hands and slowly turns to his bandmates, dumbstruck. “Next Friday. Three PM. We’re performing for Bang Chan.”

Minho prays Changbin’s downstairs neighbors won’t be too mad about the screaming.

—

They have a week to prepare, which, of course, means daily practice.

On the first day, Minho thinks they might be screwed.

“Shit!” Changbin hisses, running his hands through his hair. The five of them are sitting on the floor of Hyunjin’s basement, trying to decide which songs would be best to showcase. 

Chan had told Changbin that they should show him a summary of the band’s sound in three songs. They already have two of the three songs picked out. “My Pace” shows their fun, energetic side. “Awaken” demonstrates that they’re able to be intense, maybe slightly angry. Changbin even has a rap verse in that song. 

For their third song, the five of them agreed that they should do something less harsh. A song that’s more raw and emotional, like a love song. 

The issue? They don’t have many songs like that.

“Why can’t we use Piece of a Puzzle?” Felix asks. “Or My Universe? Those are perfectly good songs, Jisung just hasn’t learned them yet.”

Changbin firmly shakes his head. “Seungmin and I wrote those songs together. Performing those without him feels wrong.” He shoots an apologetic look at Jisung. “Nothing against you, man. It’s just… I feel like I’d be stealing his hard work. He put as much time into those songs as I did.”

The rest of the band hums in understanding. Minho realizes they’ve just come to a mutual agreement that those songs will never be played live again.

“Well,” Hyunjin chews on his bottom lip. “That leaves Booster, Awkward Silence, and Insomnia.”

Changbin slices his hand through the air as if he’s chopping something in half. “The first two are vetoed, obviously.”

“We can’t do Insomnia, though,” Minho grunts, leaning back on his elbows. “It doesn’t have the vulnerability we need.”

Felix frowns at his brother. “Then what are we supposed to do?”

“We could do a cover song.”

“Nope. Chan said a summary of our sound.”

Changbin groans. “Fucking hell, this is a disaster.”

The five of them fall into a defeated silence.

Then Jisung clears his throat. “I, um, have a song we could use. If we need one.”

Minho’s eyes snap to Jisung. He’s fidgeting with his sleeves, watching his bandmates and trying to gauge their reactions.

“...What do you mean by that?” Changbin asks carefully.

Jisung purses his lips. “I write songs, too.”

The rest of the group stares at him.

Jisung glances at each of them nervously. “Do you want to hear it, or…?”

Changbin, Hyunjin, and Felix babble their confirmations that yes, they do, while Minho continues staring at Jisung in silence.

Jisung gets up and scrambles over to his guitar case, pulling out an acoustic guitar and a journal. Minho had wondered why Jisung always brought his own guitar to rehearsal; he now realizes that it must be for times like this, or in case of an emergency.

Jisung sits criss crossed in front of them, flipping through his journal until he gets to the page he’d been looking for. “I’ve never shown anyone this song.” 

He hands the journal over to them. Written at the top of the page is the title in messy handwriting: “Volcano.”

Minho skims over the lyrics and immediately feels like he shouldn’t. They’re so raw. Jisung writes about being unable to resist someone, even if they burn him. He writes about protecting them and lifting them up as they lifted him. He writes about how he doesn’t care if loving them is a sin because he can’t live without them.

Fuck.

Felix looks up at Jisung with giant eyes. “We have to hear this. Please, Jisung.”

Jisung flashes a shy smile at him and nods, situating his guitar in his lap and taking the journal back so he can read the lyrics as he’s singing.

Listening to Jisung play Volcano is even more overwhelming than reading the lyrics. The song is faster-paced than Minho had expected it to be, but the passion in the lyrics and his voice makes it exactly what they’d been looking for. He strums the guitar intently, keeping a steady rhythm as he sings. Minho can tell by the way Jisung sings that he’s only using half the energy that he’d use in a real show. He wonders how he’d react if he heard Jisung perform this the way he performed at the club, along with the entire band backing him up.

Jisung finishes the song with his eyes closed and sighs to himself. When he opens his eyes, Felix has started applauding over-enthusiastically, nearly bouncing off the walls from where he sits.

Minho watches as Jisung smiles at Felix before turning to the rest of the band to hear their thoughts.

“We’re using this song.” Hyunjin states. He says it like it’s a known fact. “Can we get started practicing now? We spent way too much time on this and we need to work out our parts.” He stands up, brushing off his pants.

Changbin grins, standing up alongside Hyunjin. “Yeah, let’s do it.”

Minho gets up with the rest of the band, but instead of going to his designated spot, he strides over to where Jisung is putting his stuff away. He grasps Jisung’s arm and pulls him close, just for a brief moment.

“We’re getting dinner together after rehearsal.” He mutters. “You have a whole lot of explaining to do.”

Jisung blinks at Minho, nodding wordlessly.

Minho doesn’t miss the blush dusting Jisung’s cheeks before he walks back to his spot.

—

They spend the rest of rehearsal coming up with how they’d play Jisung’s song as a band. Jisung tries to step back and let someone else take charge, but the rest of the group insists that he needs to be the one directing. While he’s reserved at first, he slowly but surely comes around to it. With Jisung as the creative lead, he lets the members use their own discretion and play around with the sound, but he still makes sure it’s the same song he’d initially come up with.

When rehearsal finally ends, Minho keeps his promise. He drags Jisung out to his car, piling him into the passenger seat and driving to the nearest place with greasy food.

“I got worried you were planning on murdering me for a second there,” Jisung says as they climb out of Minho’s car and walk through the parking lot.

Minho shakes his head. “I told you, I’m not that scary.”

“Don’t put words in my mouth. I never said that.”

They put in their orders at the front counter and find a booth to sit in. Jisung slides in across from Minho, sipping on a fountain drink he’d bought. He studies Minho expectantly.

“Well?” He raises an eyebrow.

Minho sighs and drums his hands on the table. “Explain yourself.”

Jisung flashes a confused yet amused smile, cocking his head at his bandmate. “What do you mean?”

Minho rolls his eyes and crosses his arms, slouching in his seat. “You know what I mean. How did you get so…” He grunts in frustration. “Y’know. You can sing. You can rap. You can perform. You can play guitar. And now we find out you can write songs, too?”

Jisung grins wickedly. “You’re asking how I became a musical prodigy?”

“Alright, let’s not get too ahead of ourselves.”

(Yes, that’s precisely what Minho is asking.)

Jisung giggles. “I’m kidding. I’m not as great as you make me sound. Music is just something that I loved growing up, so much that I decided I wanted to pursue a career in it. Simple as that.”

Minho fixes Jisung with a blank stare. “I’m gonna need you to elaborate.”

Jisung sighs and shakes his head at Minho’s tone. If Minho didn’t know any better, he’d say it was affectionate.

“My mom was a singer,” Jisung begins. “She never made it big or anything like that, but she was a background singer for a lot of artists and loved to perform. Ever since I was a baby, she constantly sang little songs for me. Coming up with tunes on the spot about me, singing lullabies, or just singing to herself. Hearing the people around me sing became normal for me. Naturally, I picked up singing at a young age. I think I was five?”

Minho raises his eyebrows, surprised.

Jisung waves a dismissive hand. “I wasn’t taking lessons or anything like that. But I was always singing, whether it was humming my favorite song to myself or straight up belting nonsense.” He chuckles. “I was quite the annoying kid.”

Minho wants to make a playful remark about that, but he senses that the conversation is going in a more personal direction, so he holds back.

“Anyway, as I got older I just kind of… picked up everything. I joined the choir at school. My mom bought me an acoustic guitar for my thirteenth birthday, and I taught myself how to play with videos online.” Jisung rubs the back of his neck. “I started writing songs that same year.”

Minho can’t help it; he barks out a laugh at that. “The prime time to start writing songs.”

“I never said they were good!” Jisung exclaims, sliding down in his seat. “But yeah, they were pretty corny to start. Teenage angst, and all that good stuff.”

“So that’s the story, then?” Minho asks after composing himself. “You taught yourself how to do all this stuff, and the rest is history? You’ve been making music ever since?”

Hesitation flashes across Jisung’s face. “Well, I did take a break from it for a couple of years when I was sixteen.”

Minho furrows his eyebrows. “Why?”

Jisung stills and averts his eyes, staring at the table. He opens his mouth to respond, and–

A college-aged worker appears out of nowhere with their food, interrupting Jisung before he could start. “I have two cheeseburgers?”

They quickly thank her and take their food, wincing when they touch the hot plates even after she had already warned them to be careful.

As she walks away, Jisung is already picking up his burger and taking a bite. “Oh my god,” he whispers around a mouthful of food, closing his eyes as he chews.

Minho snorts as he picks up his own burger. “That hungry?”

Jisung nods. He takes his time chewing, and Minho holds down laughter as he watches him struggle through the large mouthful of food.

When Jisung finally swallows, he opens his eyes again. “What was I saying?”

Minho swallows his bite. “Break from music.”

Jisung snaps his fingers. “Right. Anyway, I had this revelation when I was applying to university. Like, ‘Why haven’t I been working on music? I’m crazy!’ So, I applied to the music program.” He smiles to himself. “Thank goodness I got in, because I might have never picked it up again.”

He sighs, tapping a rhythm into the table as he speaks. “It took me a few months to get back into the groove of things, but I did. Two years later, I saw your flyers, and now I’m here!” He grins. “Does that answer all of your questions?”

Minho thinks of his question from earlier. He decides he shouldn’t pry.

“What about performing?” He asks instead. “Where’d you learn to do that? Were you in theater classes or something?”

Jisung shrugs, picking up his burger again. “I just feel the music when I’m on stage. Nothing special there.”

As they eat, they allow the conversation to move on from there. They talk about their childhood, their experiences at university, or just whatever comes to mind. Minho finds that it’s unusually easy to talk to Jisung, and he wonders why they hadn’t done this sooner.

He makes a mental note to himself: he needs to hang out with Jisung more.

They finish their meals. Minho insists on paying, which takes a lot of convincing. The argument eventually ends in Jisung pouting and promising he’ll pay next time. Minho isn’t sure why his heart jumps in excitement at the words “next time.”

He drives the two of them home, dropping Jisung off at his apartment. After Jisung gets out and closes the car door behind him, he leans into the passenger window.

“Thanks again,” He smiles. “I told you I’m not scared of you.”

Minho wags a finger at him. “You haven’t seen the depth of who I am. Don’t speak too soon.”

Jisung laughs and turns on his heel, jogging toward his building.

During the ride home, Minho thinks about Jisung’s story of taking a break from music. He wonders what the younger boy had held back from saying.

—

The following week is grueling.

Almost every morning, Minho drags himself out of bed and heads over to the diner to work a shift. Those usually last around nine hours, then he gets around two hours to himself before he heads over to Hyunjin’s to rehearse. In the hours that they practice, they work hard. They drill the songs they’re going to perform for Chan over and over, working at certain parts until their fingers are nearly bleeding. On top of that, they’re simultaneously learning Volcano for the first time and trying to make it sound perfect. All within a week.

Minho is exhausted, but he can’t imagine what it must be like for the rest of the band members, who are still in university with classes to attend and homework to do.

There are evenings when he watches Jisung after rehearsal. Minho can see the poor guy overworking himself, no matter how hard he tries to hide it. At the end of most rehearsals, he’s doubling over or lying down on the floor, chugging his water to soothe his vocal cords.

But no matter how hard they’re working, the week still flies by. Suddenly it’s Friday morning, and the five of them are doing their final rehearsal.

They run through the songs one last time. They sound good. They’ve gotten Volcano down to a tee, and the other two songs have been beaten so hard into the ground that Minho isn’t sure if they even can sound any better.

The only thing left to do is make sure they’re good when they actually perform.

They collectively decide that they should get to headquarters fifteen minutes early to account for the possibility of getting lost. This means that at 2:15 PM, the five of them pile into Minho’s car and are on their way.

The drive isn’t too bad, with Changbin in the passenger seat and the three musketeers in the back. They listen to songs from their favorite bands, both to motivate them as well as give them inspiration for how they should perform. Jisung and Felix are belting along to the music, and at one point Minho has to remind Jisung that he needs to be more careful with his voice if he wants them to have a chance at getting signed.

Finally, they arrive at Oasis Records headquarters. The building is large and modern, and it takes the five of them a minute to locate the front door after Minho finds a parking space.

They walk into a room with tall ceilings and white marble floors. On the other side of the room is a receptionist’s desk with a bored looking woman sitting behind it.

Changbin walks straight up to the woman with the rest of the band trailing behind him. He plants his hands on the desk and leans forward ever so slightly.

“Hello,” He says politely. “We have an appointment with Bang Chan for three PM?”

The woman stares at him blankly for a long second before turning to her desktop and loudly typing something on the keyboard. “What’s your band’s name?”

“Murk.”

The receptionist hums, types for a second longer, then speaks into a small microphone. “Chan, Murk is here to see you.”

She listens to her earpiece for a second, nodding, then turns to the group. “Fourth floor, room 413. You’ll find Mr. Bang there.”

The five of them thank her in unison before making their way to the elevator room.

Minho can feel the nervous energy in the elevator as they cram into the small space. They don’t say a word the entire ride up.

When they reach room 413, Changbin turns to them one last time. “Energy,” He whispers. “That’s the most important thing. We’re a band, and we need to bounce off of each other. Remember to give My Pace a more animated sound, and Awaken needs to be gravelly with a heavy beat.” He turns to Jisung. “Any notes about Volcano?”

Jisung gawks at Changbin. “Me?”

Changbin nods. “It’s your song.”

Jisung pauses, then nods slowly. “Well… I guess the only piece of advice I have is to remember the lyrics. Remember what the song is about, and channel that emotion into what you’re playing.”

Minho feels like he’s on fire when Changbin knocks.

The door opens, and there stands a man with curly black hair. He’s younger than Minho had expected; he can’t be any more than a year or two older than him. He isn’t too tall, standing at a height shorter than Minho but taller than Changbin. He’s wearing all black, and his skin is pale, which Minho presumes is from sitting inside working on music all day.

At the sight of the band, Chan smiles, and Minho is taken aback. The smile isn’t fake or forced. In fact, he looks genuinely pleased to see them, dimples on full display.

“You must be Murk!” He exclaims, stepping back to give them room to enter the room. “Come in, make yourselves comfortable.”

Changbin glances over his shoulder at Minho and they exchange perplexed looks. This is the ever-so-intimidating Bang Chan?

When they walk in, Minho observes his surroundings. They’re in a recording studio that’s clearly meant for bands, with a large space and a drum set already in place.

“Which one of you is Changbin?” Chan asks once they’re all in the room, closing the door behind them.

Changbin raises his hand shyly, and Chan flashes another charming smile at him. “Great to see you in person.” He turns to the rest of the group. “And the rest of you?”

Minho realizes he’s asking them to introduce themselves. “I’m Lee Minho, lead guitarist,” He quickly says, struggling to keep up his confident facade. 

They go around the room introducing themselves and their position, and Chan listens to each of them intently. Minho is still waiting for Chan’s act to disappear; for the harsh, strict producer to come out.

They finish their introductions and Chan nods. “It’s great to meet you all.” He starts making his way over to a chair on the other side of the room that’s facing the band. “You know, I normally don’t let people play for me, especially if I’ve never heard their music before.” He shakes his head in disbelief. “But when you told me Jihyo gave you my number… there was no way I could turn you away. It’s been a long time since she’s found an artist she likes.” He sits down, his undivided attention on them. “Plus, I’ve been wanting to work with a band for a while now.”

Minho’s heart thumps in his chest.

Chan points at the drum set. “You guys ready?”

The five of them break out of their daze, affirming that they are and quickly getting their instruments out. Minho feels like he’s in a trance as he moves through his routine.

Once they’re set up and have taken their places, Chan pulls out his phone and sets it up on a tripod in front of him. “Do you guys mind if I film you?”

“That’s fine!” Hyunjin chirps from behind Minho.

Chan nods and presses a button on his phone. He sits back in his seat and gestures at them. “Start whenever you’re ready.”

Minho closes his eyes, waiting for Hyunjin’s cue.

Instead, he hears a voice echoing from the speakers. “Thank you so much,”

His eyes snap open to see that Jisung is speaking into the microphone, bouncing on his toes.

“Thank you so much,” He repeats, “For taking the time to listen to us. We know you don’t do this often, and we’ll forever be grateful for this opportunity, no matter the outcome. But,” Minho can see the curve of Jisung’s cheek as he smiles. He imagines the expression on Jisung’s face from where he stands; the glint in his eye. “We’re sure you’ll love us by the end of our set.”

Something Minho can’t quite discern flashes in Chan’s expression. “I’m looking forward to it, Han Jisung.”

Jisung peers over his shoulder to grin at the rest of the band, giving them a thumbs up. Then he takes a deep breath and pulls the microphone from the stand.

Minho stares at Jisung as Hyunjin counts them off.

The performance passes in a blur. Minho isn’t thinking as he plays, allowing muscle memory and the feeling of the music to take over. If you asked Minho to recount any part of that performance, he wouldn’t be able to tell you a single detail. All he remembers is the look on Chan’s face between songs, Jisung’s movements, and the way his fingers ache by the time they’re done.

When they finish, Minho is breathless for a reason he can’t quite work out. The five of them all turn to Chan, waiting for his decision.

Chan’s eyes are shining with excitement.

He reaches forward and stops the recording. He watches a few seconds of the video, then turns it off and looks up at the band. “I’m going to send this to the label. I’ll include a link to the band’s Instagram, so they have other stuff to reference. I’ll give them Changbin’s information and they’ll get back to you with their decision.”

The group freezes. There’s a beat of silence.

“Does that mean…?” Felix whispers.

Chan beams at the keyboardist. “Your music is great, and you’re all amazing performers. I’d love to work with you guys.”

—

For the next few weeks, Minho is a jittery mess. Every ten minutes, he’s expecting the dreaded text from Changbin, telling him that they hadn’t been accepted. Minho doesn’t want to get his hopes too high, seeing the label’s track record, but the memory of Chan’s reaction to their music is imprinted in his brain.

After their performance for Chan, the band insists on Jisung showing them more of his music. It takes some convincing, but he eventually complies.

When he shows them his journal of songs, he has more songs than Minho had expected. Most of them are slower and more emotional, but he has fun ones as well. Minho’s personal favorite – aside from Volcano – is called “Alien.”

Without the daily rehearsals, Minho’s life gets less hectic. He’s still working mornings at the diner, but most afternoons he comes home and gets the rest of the day to himself. Weirdly, he misses the craziness of it all.

So of course, he’s at the diner when he gets the text.

He’s in between running food and bussing tables, and he feels his phone buzz in his pocket. He pulls it out and his stomach drops when he sees a text in the band’s group chat.

[Changbin]
i got an email from oasis

Minho freezes in his tracks.

[Hyunjin]
oh my god

[Jisung]
HUH

[Felix]
WHAT DOES IT SAY

Minho hears customers coming in, and he ducks into the kitchen where he can’t be seen.

[Changbin]
i’m not opening it until we’re all together

Minho types with shaky fingers.

[Minho]
you sappy shit
tell us what it says

[Changbin]
nope
waiting until ur all here

When Minho’s shift ends, he drives straight to Changbin’s apartment. He walks in, and the entire band is already there.

“Took you long enough!” Felix yells.

Minho scowls at him. “I had a shift, asshole!”

They all gather around Changbin’s laptop, the unread email from Oasis Records sitting at the top of his inbox.

“No matter what this says,” Changbin points at his screen. “We were lucky to have this opportunity. The fact that Bang Chan wants to work with us, and even gave us the time of day…” He shakes his head. “Unbelievable.”

“And we played our set well,” Hyunjin chimes in. “That’s gotta count for something.”

Changbin smiles at him. Then he takes a deep breath. “You guys ready?”

The rest of the band nods in unison.

Changbin exhales the breath he’d been holding and clicks the email.

Minho barely reads the email, anxiously skimming over the words. He does, however, pick up a few stray parts here and there, including “congratulations” and “contracts attached.”

Minho is the first to speak. “Holy shit, holy shit holy shit holy fuck!”

Sitting in front of them is an acceptance email from Oasis Records.

Jisung is the next to react. He grabs Minho’s arm out of what seems to be instinct, jumping up from where he’s sitting. “Oh my god,” He whispers. “Oh my god!” Then he’s spinning around to face Minho, tugging him into a tight hug.

As the rest of the band members begin to react, Minho finds himself hugging Jisung back just as tightly. Maybe it’s the adrenaline coursing through him, but it feels like the right thing to do.

They break apart and celebrate with the rest of the group. Minho feels like he’s in a dream as he pulls Felix into an embrace, burying his face into his brother’s shoulder.

“We did it,” He hears Felix whisper into his ear. “All those years of lessons paid off, huh?”

Minho laughs into Felix’s shirt.

-

They waste no time in taking their next steps.

Each of them individually emails their signed contracts to the label within days, including each of the members’ contact information. A day after they do that, they get a text from Chan in a group chat of the six of them congratulating them.

Minho doesn’t expect anything much to happen for a while. He thinks they’ll release some songs under the label, then maybe start a slow growth of a fanbase. They can’t get greedy just because they’ve had a lucky month.

But then Oasis Records publishes them on their website.

If you visit their website, the first thing that you see is a picture of Murk on the homepage with the words “NEW ARTIST” written in big letters above it.

Alright, Minho thinks to himself as the picture of the band on his phone screen stares up at him. Normal label stuff.

That, of course, is before all the articles get posted.

They come in like a landslide. Articles about the exciting new band under Oasis Records, the first artist to be signed by them in seven months. The articles delve into the little information they have about the band – like the university they originated from – or introduce each of the members and their positions. The university’s social media pages are posting about them, and Minho is getting texts from people he hasn’t spoken to in years congratulating him. The band’s Instagram account’s followers shoot into the tens of thousands.

One afternoon, Minho is lying in bed and decides to search up the band’s name on Twitter. He opens up the search bar and types in “Murk.”

Hundreds of results pop up.

aliciatey147: omg the new band under oasis records?? murk??? they look so cool

bgabby_: been a while since oasis signed a band, excited to see what murk has to offer!

mintyg33: the drummer in murk is hot

Minho scrolls for ages, his thumb getting stuck in a routine of scrolling farther and farther down the rabbit hole. He can’t believe what he’s reading, overwhelmed by the support and the sheer number of people that know of his existence.

For the next week, the band’s group chat is going off at least a hundred times a day.

[Jisung]
someone just recognized me on campus??? wtf

[Felix]
DUDE that happened to me the other day. surreal

[Hyunjin]
i refuse to believe ANY of this is real

No less than two weeks into being signed, they get a text from Chan.

[Chan]
hey guys! so the attention is on you right now, huh :D since your announcement was such a success, the label thinks it’s a good idea for you to release a new single soon! i know two of the songs you guys performed for me are already released, but i think that third unreleased one could REALLY be a hit. it’s called volcano, right?
of course you guys can do a different song you want to but i LOVED that song.
anyway, lmk what you decide & your schedules and we can work out a day to record!

They work out when the five of them are free and arrange recording sessions for a couple of days. Changbin tells Chan that Volcano is Jisung’s song, and Chan assures them that Jisung will have the final say when it comes to how recording plays out.

This turns out to be true when the first day of recording arrives. Chan shows them how a studio session usually pans out, then sits back and allows Jisung to take the reins.

They start by running through the song once. Chan gives them a few notes about what he thinks could improve, and Jisung agrees with most of the critiques. They run through it with the changes and take a baseline recording.

Then they start solo recordings. They begin with Hyunjin. He does a few takes of different segments, the original take of the song in his ear as he bangs out the song on his drums. When he’s done, they repeat the process with Changbin, Felix, and Minho.

They’re in the middle of one of Felix’s takes when Minho takes a minute to sit back and observe Jisung. He’s standing at the window, watching Felix play. His arms are crossed and his face is intently concentrated. Minho can tell how much he cares; how invested he is in his craft.

Before he can stop himself, Minho is walking over to stand next to Jisung.

Jisung turns to Minho in surprise when he appears next to him. He flashes a small smile. “What’s up?”

Minho shrugs. “Who inspired the song?”

Jisung’s cheeks flare up, and he shuffles his feet. Minho can"t help but marvel at how often the vocalist blushes.

“Ah, well…” He chews on his lip, unable to meet Minho’s eyes. “It’s not about anyone in particular. I wrote it before I auditioned for the band. I was feeling kind of down about… well, never having felt this way before.” He pulls the beanie he’s wearing farther down over his forehead. “It was just me pretending that I’ve experienced this kind of love. I don’t know.”

Minho’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “Impressive. It sounds like it came from the heart. You know, with the whole ‘loving you is a sin’ thing.” Minho knows he’s being invasive, but can’t stop the words from flowing.

Jisung doesn’t seem too uncomfortable with Minho’s prodding, but he does seem incredibly embarrassed. He flails his hands around. “Ah, yeah, that lyric is nothing! Honestly! Just made it up on the spot!”

Minho narrows his eyes at Jisung but doesn’t push any further. He believes Jisung when he says the song isn’t about anyone, but that last part had definitely been a lie.

The rest of the recording process goes smoothly. They finish the instrumental that day, and Jisung goes in on his own with Chan to record the vocals the next day. A week later, Chan calls them in again to listen to the final song.

It’s surreal to listen to their music professionally produced. Minho can clearly hear his part in the song, his guitar ringing in his ears as it strums alongside Jisung’s voice.

And don’t get Minho started on Jisung’s voice. It’s crisp and clean, every waver and high note sung in just the right way to make Minho’s heart do somersaults. Minho wonders if the rest of the band is as affected as he is when they listen to their lead vocalist sing.

Chan makes sure they’re all okay with the finished product, then the label arranges for their song to be officially released in two weeks.

Advertisements and promotions immediately begin. They’re told to post about the song’s release on their Instagram page, YouTube channel, and any other social media platform they’re on. A short teaser of the song is even uploaded.

Their followers go insane. Minho watches as more and more excited comments flood in from the moderate following they have.

The night before the release of Volcano, Minho is on the phone with Changbin as he sits on his couch in his apartment.

“How do you think it’s going to go?” Changbin’s voice asks through Minho’s speaker.

Minho sighs. “I don’t know. I’m sure it’ll be fine, nothing too special.”

Changbin hums in agreement. “We did only just start with Oasis, didn’t we? I guess we shouldn’t get too excited. It’ll take some time before we start gaining some real traction.”

“That’s what I was thinking,” Minho affirms. “I need to stop getting my head in the clouds. It’s not like we’re going to get a hit song on the first try.”

“Exactly. Let’s be patient, right?”

—

Being the first artist to sign with a famous label in months must have its benefits, because man, had they been wrong.

Within the first few hours of its release, the streams surge. It’s nothing monumental, but still notable. People are sharing it on their social media, word about Murk spreading as their first professionally produced song is thrown into every corner of the internet. The combination of the passionate instrumental, the heart-wrenching lyrics, and Jisung’s dangerous voice is the perfect recipe for a song that people lose their minds over.

When the song does well, the label schedules Murk to do a video recording of a performance video. It’s similar to a music video, but not exactly the same. The premise is simple: they’ll film a couple of takes performing the song, their hair and makeup done. Then it’ll all be edited together and the studio recording will replace the original audio.

They take a day to film the video. It isn’t too hard; Minho treats it like any other performance. It doesn’t take any longer than an hour.

The video is uploaded a week later, the night before Minho has a shift. Minho doesn’t have time to watch it in the morning, so he goes to work as usual. It isn’t until halfway through his shift as he’s wiping down countertops that he realizes what’s happened.

The diner always plays some mainstream radio station. He usually doesn’t pay attention, allowing the overplayed songs to go in one ear and out the other.

“Alright, this next song is something new!” He hears the charismatic radio host over the speakers, enthusiastic as ever. “The song’s been out for a couple of weeks, but YouTube’s trending page is loving it at the moment!”

Minho pauses his movements, only allowing himself to break his immersion for an instant before he continues with his task. Can’t get my hopes up.

“With a killer performance video uploaded just last night, this is Volcano by Murk!”

Minho stills as Felix’s opening notes ring throughout the diner. He throws his rag down on the counter, frantically getting his phone out and opening YouTube. He pulls up the trending page.

Sure enough, with a whopping three million views, their performance video is trending at number two in the “music” section.

Minho nearly drops his phone.

This is what you’d call monumental.

Minho gets home that afternoon and finally gets a chance to scroll through the comments on the performance video. He sees a plethora of comments, with various versions of “who’s the drummer/guitarist/keyboardist???” or “how have i never heard of them? need more music released!”

Most of the comments are about Jisung, though. About his stage presence, his incredible performing skills, or his voice. Minho by no means disagrees.

In fact, for reasons unknown to him, he finds himself playing the part of the video when they reach the bridge over and over again. He watches the way Jisung’s expressions contort as he transitions from tenderly singing into the microphone to nearly screaming about his heart burning with love.

Amid Minho’s scrolling, he sees a comment that makes him pause.

lum1sti: did anyone else notice the way minho is staring at jisung for almost the entire video? omg lol i don’t blame him

There are several replies to the comment, agreeing or freaking out over the revelation. 

Minho frowns at his phone screen. He doesn’t stare.

That video had been enough to skyrocket their popularity. People start to recognize Minho outside of campus. Users across the internet are posting about them. Their follower count spikes into the hundreds of thousands, and Minho notices the occasional fan account beginning to pop up here and there. It’s incredible how one video draws so much attention to them.

It feels like a dream. Another reality that Minho has somehow teleported to. He’s convinced that must be the case.

That is until they debut in the charts at number 38. That’s when it clicks into place that this is, in fact, real.

—

“Someone at the front is looking for you.”

Minho shoots an annoyed scowl at his coworker from where he stands, leaning against the outside wall at the back of the diner. “I just started my break.”

His coworker shrugs. “I don’t think he’s looking for service.”

Minho freezes. “He’s not, like, a fan of Murk, right?” 

Luckily enough for Minho, he doesn’t get many customers that know who Murk is. The main demographic of the diner is older people. But that doesn’t mean he never gets an occasional straggler that recognizes him.

His coworker rolls her eyes. “You’re so full of yourself. No.”

Minho glares and pushes past her to make his way to the front of the diner.

When he gets there his steps falter. He hadn’t expected to see Jisung awkwardly waiting for him.

He blinks. “What are you doing here?”

Jisung smiles at him. “You’re on your break, right?”

They find a booth to sit next to a window. Jisung orders a coffee and leaves it at that, no matter how many times Minho’s coworkers ask if he wants a discount on the food.

When the coffee arrives, Minho leans back in his seat and fixes his gaze on Jisung. “I’ll ask again. Why are you here?”

Jisung shrugs. “Just wanted to see you.”

Minho’s heart stutters. Cute.

Wait, what?

He scoffs. “Right.”

Jisung frowns. “It’s true! Have you ever considered the idea that I might just like spending time with you?” He rests his chin in his palm. “And anyway, you’re the only one that I can have a conversation with about our recent success. Everyone else freaks out every time I bring it up.”

Minho smirks at that. “Yeah, that’s probably true.”
Jisung’s lips twitch at a smile. He examines the diner. “You gonna stay here?”

Minho purses his lips. When Murk had started to gain popularity, he’d entertained the idea of quitting. But the possibility of Volcano being a one-hit wonder had stopped him. What if they never go anywhere past this song?

But with how well the song is doing, maybe…

Minho shakes his head wistfully. “I don’t know.”

Jisung takes a sip of his coffee and watches Minho for a moment. Some hidden, tucked away thought in Minho’s mind tells him that Jisung can read him like an open book, and that it’s exactly what he’s doing right now. Minho represses the urge to break eye contact.

Jisung’s eyes widen, as if being broken from a trance. “What if we made an album?”

Minho furrows his eyebrows. “What?”

“Think about it!” Jisung sits up straighter in his seat, setting his mug down. “Volcano is doing well. We’re growing a fanbase. If we manage to do some interviews, maybe some shows here and there, we’d probably be able to get our name out there even more. When the label sees that, there’s no way they’d turn us down. Then you can have guaranteed stability and you’ll be able to quit your job.”

Minho feels his ears heating up. “That idea came to you because… you want me to be able to quit my job?”

“Just now, it did, but I’ve been thinking about it for an eternity.” Jisung grins. “Plus, I’ve been dying to write some songs with Changbin.”

The two of them sit and discuss their master plan of finding a way to convince Oasis Records to let them make an album. That morphs into ideas for songs, then into Jisung’s songwriting history. Then that turns into talking about Minho growing up playing guitar and eventually Minho’s childhood as a whole.

Then Minho’s boss is standing next to their booth and yelling at Minho to get back to work, and fuck, how had he not realized he’d been talking to Jisung for an entire hour?

—

They find that booking interviews isn’t too hard when a bunch of people are already reaching out to them.

Oasis Records is selective with who they allow Murk to meet. Most of the emails they get are turned down, but they manage to book sparing interviews with eager journalists, semi-famous YouTubers, or radio show hosts. Most of them ask about how the band got started and what they did during the two years that they weren’t signed to Oasis. Some ask Jisung how he came up with Volcano, which he always expertly talks his way around without answering directly.

One podcast host they meet has done his research. He asks about their former lead vocalist and what the transition was like after Jisung joined.

“Well,” Felix begins. “Seungmin was amazing. We were all sad to see him go, and we miss him dearly. He’s still one of my closest friends. But with Jisung, it was…” He trails off, pursing his lips. “I don’t know how to describe it…”

“It was easy.” Minho cuts in, saving his brother from fumbling over his words. “Jisung fit in like a missing puzzle piece. We lucked out with him and his talent.” He pauses. “No matter how annoying he is.”

The interviewer laughs along with the rest of the band, but Minho can’t focus on that. Not while he can feel Jisung’s gaze burning into the back of his head from where he sits in the back row.

Along with the interviews, they book shows. Almost all of them are private performances for a company’s online video; nothing too special.

It’s already been a month since Volcano was released. The semester is coming to an end. Changbin and Hyunjin are set to graduate in a week, and the four band members still in school couldn’t be more excited for summer, as they’ll be able to put all of their energy into music. So when they’re offered to play a short set at a small music festival near their university campus, the timing couldn’t be any more perfect.

The show is an experience unlike any that Minho has had before. There are around two hundred people in the crowd, almost all of them singing the lyrics with Jisung at the top of their lungs, especially when Volcano comes on. Minho allows his body to take over as he plays, the music pumping through his veins as any logical thought about his performance flies away.

When the five of them take their bow, Jisung lifts his microphone to his lips one last time. “Thank you! Once again, we are Murk! Give us a listen if you haven’t already.” He winks at the crowd before leading the way off stage.

The five of them lumber backstage, drenched in sweat from the exertion and the sunbeams that had been beating down on them. Chan is waiting for them, clapping each of them on the back as they make their way over to him.

“Great show!” He compliments, grinning from ear to ear. Minho notices that his curly hair is frizzy from the outdoor humidity.

Jisung huffs out a sigh. “I guess.” He tips his head back, exposing the column of his neck. Minho pointedly looks away.

“I messed up during Awaken,” Hyunjin winces, still breathless. His long brown hair sticks to the back of his neck and he swipes a hand through his bangs to push them out of his eyes. “Sorry.”

Changbin pats his arm reassuringly. “I barely noticed.”

“Well,” Chan begins, his grin becoming something more exuberant. “I have some exciting news.”

The five band members perk up at that. They stand in silence, waiting for Chan to get on with it.

He glances between them, clapping his hands together. “Publicity is going well. Volcano is doing better than ever, the interviews and performances you guys have done have been successes, and your fanbase is growing by the minute.” He bites his lip. “Oasis wants to know if you guys would be interested in making an album.”

Time seems to go still. Minho has another moment where he genuinely can’t believe that this is his life.

Then he realizes that Jisung is spinning around to face the other members. Wait, no, not the other members; to face Minho. Jisung locks eyes with him, stars sparkling in his irises.

“We didn’t even have to ask!” He whisper-shouts, referencing their conversation at the diner.

Minho finds himself cracking a smile. “There goes our elaborate plan, huh?”

—

Minho quits his job at the diner.

He thinks long and hard about what Jisung had said to him. Oasis Records is incredibly calculated and particular about the moves that they make with their artists. The fact that they offered Murk an album is a pretty good sign that they probably won’t be a one-hit-wonder. And if they don’t end up being successful, Minho can find another job. Maybe pursue something with his degree. 

So Minho puts in his two weeks at the godforsaken diner and leaves it at that.

Changbin and Hyunjin graduate. The rest of the band attends the ceremony, screaming extra loud when they walk across the stage. They get stares, but none of them care.

Two days later, Jisung and Changbin are writing together.

Minho is at a coffee shop when he gets a call from Changbin. He picks up, making sure to keep his voice hushed as he speaks.

“What?” He murmurs.

“Could you please bring me and Jisung food?” Changbin’s voice is sickly sweet, forming his words as if he’s pouting.

Minho scoffs. “No.”

“Come on, Minho!” Changbin whines. “We’re on a roll with writing, if we stop now we’ll–”

“Wait,” Minho interrupts. “Writing? Like, writing songs? Already?”

“We had ideas.”

“You literally graduated two days ago–”

“Minho, we’re hungry!” Suddenly Jisung’s voice is on the other end of the line, and Minho clamps his mouth shut. He speaks with a lilt and a teasing tone. “We’d really appreciate it if you did this. We’ll show you some songs if you come over!”

Minho glares down at his coffee. Damn it.

“Fine. What do you want?”

The two of them have a short celebration before they relay their order to Minho. 

He picks up their food and drives to Jisung’s apartment as the songwriters had directed him to do. Jisung buzzes him in, and he makes his way up the staircase to the third floor.

When Jisung opens the door, he’s holding his guitar in his right hand. He beams at Minho, his raven hair sticking up in different directions. For reasons unknown to Minho, his heart lurches in his chest.

“Thanks, man.” Jisung takes the food and opens the door further so that Minho can come in. “How much do I owe you?”

Minho shakes his head as he brushes past Jisung, avoiding eye contact. “Don’t worry about it.”

He tries not to imagine Jisung’s smile getting brighter at his words.

He strolls into the living room where Changbin is lounging on the couch, fiddling with a pencil between his fingers as he stares down at his journal. He sits up at the sight of Minho, setting the journal down on the coffee table.

“Thank you!” He sings when Jisung hands him the bag of food. Minho sinks into an armchair, slouching as he watches Changbin unwrap his sandwich.

“So,” He deadpans. “Songwriting, huh?”

Jisung nods excitedly and sets down his guitar, snatching up the journal instead. “We’ve already written a song for the album, and we’re halfway through a second. We need to show them to everyone else, but we wrote them together and–”

Minho holds up his hand to stop Jisung’s blathering. He fixes his gaze on the two boys. “How long have you been writing for?”

Changbin grimaces. “Five hours…?” He mumbles around a mouthful of food.

Minho squeezes his eyes shut, willing himself not to get up and strangle his bandmates. “I’ll listen to the song. But please take care of yourselves. We have months to make this album, and you still have to teach the rest of us the songs as well as record them. I don’t want you to be writing for multiple days straight to try and get it done quickly. Take it slow.”

Changbin frowns. “Dude, it’s only been five hours. We only started today.”

“And knowing you two, you’ll keep going until someone has to force you to stop.”

The pair of them sit in guilty silence.

Minho sighs and chews on his bottom lip, trying to come up with a solution. “How about this,” He begins. “You two are only allowed to have your songwriting sessions twice a week, no more than seven hours per session. You can write your individual songs however much you want in your free time, I don’t care. It’s when you’re together that it gets dangerous. We can talk to Felix and Hyunjin about a schedule for making the album the next time we’re all together. Does that sound good?”

Changbin and Jisung nod slowly. “Sounds good,” Changbin confirms.

The two of them insist that Minho needs to hear their new song, and he complies. He acts like it’s a hassle, but of course, he’s eager to hear it.

The song is called “Hello Stranger.” It’s upbeat and danceable, and Minho can already imagine his own guitar playing the song. The lyrics are about meeting someone new and being immediately attracted to them, excited by the feeling of being so drawn in. Jisung performs the entire thing, playing guitar and singing as Minho and Changbin observe.

As Minho listens, he compares this song to the ones Changbin had written on his own. When he and Jisung join forces, what they produce is nearly magical. That isn’t to say that the songs written by a solo Changbin were bad, but there’s something different about this one. Minho doesn’t doubt the rest of them will be any different.

When Jisung finishes, he and Changbin turn to Minho, waiting for his response. Minho notices Jisung’s leg begin to bounce anxiously.

He chuckles. “You’re both crazy if you think this isn’t going to be included.”

—

Of course, Felix and Hyunjin love the song.

The band has a conversation with Chan about their weekly schedule while recording the album. Together, they arrange for Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday will be the designated studio days. Jisung and Changbin decide that the weekends are their writing days, and Mondays and Tuesdays can be dedicated to working on any of the extra details the band might need to fix. The following Wednesday, they head to the studio to start with Hello Stranger.

They take the first few hours to rehearse and work out the arrangement. Minho is ecstatic about playing this particular song; the guitar part is strong, allowing Minho to have as much fun as he wants and channel all of his energy into his guitar. The rest of the band also seems excited about having a song they can have fun with.

Jisung and Changbin give the rest of the band a lot of creative freedom with how they want to play the song. While their parts need to fit together, a lot of what they come up with for the arrangements are Minho, Felix, or Hyunjin’s original ideas.

Once they have their parts worked out, they run through it all together a few times and eventually record it, the same way they had with Volcano. When Minho listens to it played back, he feels a rush similar to the one he’d felt when they’d been told they were making an album.

They come in the next day to begin recording individual parts. Chan, Jisung, and Changbin do the coaching, giving tips throughout the process to make sure it all comes together the way it should. 

Hyunjin, as usual, records his part first. Minho leans against the wall next to the window, watching Hyunjin bang his heart out on his drums.

Minho glances over at the two songwriters. Changbin is sitting down, drumming his hands on his thighs along with Hyunjin. Jisung, on the other hand, is standing up and swaying back and forth to the beat.

“How’d you two come up with the material for this song?” Felix pipes up from where he sits at the back of the room.

Changbin offers a toothy grin. “It’s based on a drama we’ve both watched.”

Minho can’t help but laugh at that. “Really?” He manages as Chan simultaneously says, “That’s smart!”

Jisung beams at Chan. “It’s better than I expected. I thought it would be a shitshow of a song.”

Changbin smacks Jisung’s arm. “Hey!”

They make it through Hyunjin and Minho’s parts and move on to Changbin. He’s a natural, and Minho knows he won’t need any more than two or three takes.

Next to Minho, Jisung is softly singing the lyrics to himself as Changbin plays. Minho finds himself inadvertently smiling at the younger boy.

“Which drama is this based on?” He asks. 

Jisung pauses his singing and huffs a muted laugh. “Have you ever watched Pop Out Boy?”

It’s Minho’s turn to laugh, shaking his head. “I don’t really watch dramas.”

“What?” Jisung gasps. He grabs Minho’s bicep, his fingers clamping down on the muscle. Minho tries not to freeze up. “Are you serious?”

Minho twists his mouth, internally praying that Jisung can’t feel his heart pounding. “Just never thought they’d be my thing.”

“Oh my god.” Jisung releases his arm and tsks at the guitarist, turning away to observe Changbin. “You’re watching one with me. It’s an experience everyone needs to have.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Minho rolls his eyes. “And when will that be?”

Jisung pauses as if considering what he’s going to say next, then firmly nods. “Tonight!”

Minho whips his head around to stare at him. “Tonight?”

Jisung grins. “Yup. You’re coming to my apartment, and we’ll start one tonight.”

Minho isn’t sure what to say, so he doesn’t say anything. Instead, he gawks at Jisung, because what else can he do?

They manage to finish Changbin and Felix’s parts and agree that Jisung can come in to record the vocals on his own the next day, with Chan and Changbin there to monitor. True to his word, Jisung demands that Minho drive the two of them to his apartment so that they can watch some silly drama. 

Minho must be some kind of sucker, because he does exactly that.

-

“Alright.” Jisung has the two of them on his couch, scrolling through the shows on his TV. “I’ll list off some options, and you’re going to pick from them.” He speaks as if the matter at hand is life or death.

Minho shoots Jisung a flat stare. “As if that’s gonna mean anything to me.”

“Just pick whatever sounds the best!”

“Oh, so we’re judging shows by their titles, now?”

Jisung makes an exasperated noise and begins rattling off names before Minho can protest any further.

Minho tries to listen. He really does. But no matter how hard he tries, the shows just go in one ear and out the other.

Jisung finishes his list, then looks at Minho expectantly.

Minho blinks. “Um. The third one?”

Jisung narrows his eyes, seeing right through Minho’s act. “You’re lucky that’s a good one,” He grumbles as he presses play.

While the show isn’t something Minho would choose to watch in his free time, he’ll admit that it isn’t terrible. It’s quite cute, actually. A sweet love story with an even sweeter main character. As they watch episode after episode, it occurs to Minho that of course a show like this is right up Jisung’s alley; he’s just as sweet to match it.

His shoulders tense up as soon as the thought crosses his mind. This has been happening a lot lately; bizarre, affectionate sentiments about Jisung flitting through Minho’s mind that he’s never felt about… well, anyone. When they’d started to appear, Minho had blamed them on his admiration of Jisung’s talent. Told himself that his brain had somehow confused that with affection, and that the feeling had somehow manifested into other situations.

But recently, the warmth in his chest had become too comfortable for his liking.

His crisis is interrupted by Jisung squawking at the TV, and Minho notices that the couple has stumbled into each other’s personal space and are now unable to move, enraptured by each other’s eyes.

Minho snorts.

Jisung shoots him a scandalized look. “This is a pivotal moment!”

Minho gestures at the TV. “You can’t tell me this isn’t the most overly-dramatic thing you’ve ever watched.”

“It’s called a drama for a reason.”

“That doesn’t make it any less inane.”

Jisung lifts his eyebrows. “I see we’re using fancy words! You must be passionate about scrutinizing this mindless, fun show that means absolutely nothing in the scheme of things!”

Minho’s ears heat up. “Shut up.”

Jisung laughs, the sound twinkling in Minho’s ears.

Minho huffs. “I mean this in the most neutral way possible: Why do you like these shows? You don’t care that it’s tooth-rotting and corny?”

When Minho expects Jisung to glare at him, he’s met with a toothy grin instead. “Like I said, it’s mindless. And you already know I’m secretly a hopeless romantic.”

Minho smirks. “Not really a secret, is it?”

“Maybe not to you.” Jisung shrugs, a small smile playing on his lips. “You’re the only one I’ve told about Volcano, you know. How I came up with the song, and all that.”

Minho swallows, trying to ignore the way his heart begins to hammer.

Jisung must notice Minho’s inner turmoil, because the corners of his mouth twitch up cockily. “What? Does that make you feel something, you robot?”

Minho thinks his heart might stop, so he uses the leg he has stretched out on the couch to repeatedly kick Jisung’s side.

They watch a few more episodes, even when Minho continuously asks if they should turn it off when Jisung yawns every five minutes. Jisung waves him off each time.

At some point during the third to last episode, Jisung has managed to scoot closer to Minho, to the point where they’re nearly pressed up against each other. Minho isn’t phased; he’s had plenty of touchy friends (Hyunjin), so if Jisung ends up being another one, he wouldn’t mind.

What catches him off guard is when Jisung’s head heavily drops onto his shoulder.

Minho goes rigid. He isn’t sure why the action makes his brain go into overdrive, but suddenly he isn’t able to form coherent thoughts.

He turns his head ever so slightly and peeks out of the corner of his eye at Jisung, and oh, that explains it. Jisung is fast asleep.

His face is serene, lips slightly parted and dark eyelashes contrasting with honey skin. With Minho’s face turned towards Jisung, he can feel the younger boy’s gentle breaths fanning against his cheek.

He reaches down to where Jisung’s hand clutches the remote, slowly pulling it from his grasp and pausing the show. He uses his other hand to take a hold of Jisung’s forearm and gently shake him. “Wake up,” He whispers, his voice soft.

Jisung’s eyes flutter open. He gazes up at Minho for a split second, his eyes bleary, before he seems to process what’s going on. He sits up abruptly, panic flashing in his eyes.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” He curses. “Must’ve been more tired than I thought I was.”

Minho chuckles. “I told you we should’ve stopped the first time you yawned.”

Jisung winces at him apologetically.

Minho stands up, stretching out his limbs. “Well, I should probably get going. You have a big day of recording tomorrow.”

Jisung nods. “Yeah, sure.” He pauses. Waits a beat. Then: “Look, I’m so sorry, I promise I won’t do something like that again.”

Minho reaches down to lightly slap the back of Jisung’s head. “Don’t be stupid. I don’t care. You can be as clingy as you want to be.”

Jisung blinks up at him with wide eyes. “Are you sure? Because I can get kind of touchy with people I’m comfortable with.”

“You’re comfortable with me?” Minho croons teasingly. “Awe, Jisungie.”

Jisung blushes and glares at Minho, but his gaze doesn’t waver. “Of course I am.”

Minho tries not to start at Jisung’s serious tone. He schools his expression to something more reassuring. “Oh. Well, uh, yeah. It’s really no problem. I did grow up with Yongbok, didn’t I?”

Jisung snorts, the tension in his shoulders immediately dissipating as he nearly melts into his couch. “I guess that’s true.”

—

The band falls into a consistent routine. Jisung and Changbin write a song over the weekend, then get said song approved by Chan. They spend Wednesdays learning the song, record the instrumental on Thursdays, and finish with the vocals on Fridays. Jisung and Changbin are usually the only ones that join Chan at the studio on Fridays, unless another member gets to sing a part of a song.

This week, they’re working on one of those songs. This time, it’s one that Jisung wrote on his own. It’s called “Slump.” It’s a melancholy song, but one that Minho is sure anyone can relate to on some level. Minho can’t help but wonder what had driven Jisung to write a song with such a  vulnerable sentiment, or what he’d been going through when he’d written it.

Instead of singing the entire song himself per usual, Jisung has asked Felix to sing the first half of the first verse, while Changbin takes the second half. He tells the band that Felix’s deep voice would suit the part, and that his short feature would make the fans go crazy.

Felix blushes profusely at his words.

Two hours into rehearsal, Minho is working on the chorus with Changbin and Hyunjin while Jisung and Felix work on his designated lines in the corner of the room. Jisung is explaining something to Felix, leaning into his personal space as he points at the lyrics in his journal. Minho sees him sing the first line before he gestures for Felix to repeat it back to him.

As Minho watches Jisung coach the keyboardist, an unfamiliar feeling settles in his gut. A rush of annoyance at his younger brother seeps into his skin. Why is he taking so long to master half of a verse, something that shouldn’t take any longer than ten seconds to sing?

Then Jisung is laughing at something Felix said. He falls forward to momentarily press into Felix’s side, resting his forehead on his shoulder for a quarter of a second before sitting back up.

For some reason, the memory of Jisung’s head falling onto Minho’s shoulder passes through his mind.

Minho bites down hard on the inside of his cheek, struggling to focus on practicing his part. He faintly tastes blood on his tongue.

“Minho.” Changbin’s voice registers in Minho’s mind, and he pauses his seething to look at the bassist. Changbin’s eyebrows are pulled together as he watches Minho play, worry written on his face.

“Try not to play so aggressively,” He notes. “The song isn’t supposed to sound angry.”

Minho looks down at his hands to see that his knuckles have turned white from how tightly he’d been pressing his fingers into the neck of his guitar. He loosens his grip and glares at his feet, ignoring the way he feels his neck begin to flush. “Right.”

“Hey,” Hyunjin begins, concern laced into his tone. “You okay?”

Minho’s gaze inadvertently flickers to Jisung. He looks away just as quickly when he realizes what he’d done.

“I’m fine,” He bites.

But Hyunjin is far too observant, because he’s slowly turning to peer at Jisung and Felix. He watches them for one, two seconds, then turns back to look at Minho.

Minho hates the gleam in Hyunjin’s eye as he smirks.

They finish rehearsal a few hours later after having learned the entire song. Despite his earlier turmoil, he feels his heart get warm when he listens to Felix sing at the beginning of the song. Jisung was right; Felix’s voice perfectly molds into that part of the song.

Minho strolls through headquarters’ hallways that evening, exhausted and ready to fall into bed the minute he gets home. He hopes he can make it through the thirty minute drive, counting on the energy drink he’d chugged earlier.

But his thoughts are interrupted when a hand grabs his arm and drags him into a nearby bathroom.

Minho yelps as he trips over his own feet, protesting loudly when a voice shushes him. The bathroom door shuts behind him and he spins around to give the anonymous person a piece of his mind.

He pauses when he meets the eyes of a grinning Hwang Hyunjin.

Minho groans and leans back, his head thumping against the bathroom door. “What do you want?”

“What’s going on with you and Jisung?”

Minho’s eyes snap open. “What are you talking about?”

“You know.”

“I really, really don’t.”

Hyunjin stares at him incredulously. Blinks once. Twice. “You can’t be serious. You’re kidding, right?”

Minho sighs, feeling a headache coming on. He rubs his eyes indignantly. “I assure you, I’m not joking. I have absolutely no fucking clue what you’re trying to say.”

Hyunjin stares at him flatly. “So there’s no reason you were blatantly jealous of your own brother?”

Minho’s brain stops working. The gears in his head can’t keep up with what Hyunjin is saying.

“What are you talking about?” He splutters.

Hyunjin rolls his eyes. “While Jisung was coaching Felix on his part in the first verse, you were staring at Felix like you were forming an elaborate plan to murder him in his sleep.”

Minho blanches. “I’m not– What would I be fucking jealous of? I was annoyed he was taking so long to learn his part. He should have spent more time rehearsing on keyboard with the rest of us. That’s it.”

Hyunjin’s eyes flit between Minho’s, and if Minho had to guess, he’d assume that the drummer is trying to read his goddamn soul.  

After a moment, confusion flickers in Hyunjin’s irises. “You’re not making that up?”

“Of course not!” 

At least, Minho doesn’t think he is. Why would he be jealous?

Hyunjin laughs wryly. “Alright, man. I really thought I’d be getting some kind of admission out of you tonight, but I guess I was wrong.” He claps Minho on the back as he pushes past the guitarist to exit the bathroom. “But please,” He glances over his shoulder. “Don’t say I didn’t tell you so when this blows over.”

Then he leaves Minho alone in the bathroom with nothing to listen to but the deafening silence and his own thoughts.

-

A month passes, and they’ve somehow already recorded four songs. Without school or jobs weighing them down, it becomes easy to put all of their energy into their music, pouring every bit of passion they have in them into the songs.

The label keeps them busy on their off days. Regularly, they have interviews or photoshoots to do, talk shows to be on, performances to attend. When they do perform, they’re usually playing Volcano, but sometimes they get a chance to play their other songs, as well. With all the promotion, Minho finds himself seeing stray posts about the band more often, fan accounts beginning to spread like wildfire.

Of course, with their gradually growing fame comes its quirks. To Minho’s dismay, he and Jisung have become a bit of a… topic within their fanbase.

He’s seen countless tweets, compilations, and video edits of them together. Most of these instances consist of Minho staring at Jisung as he speaks or sings, with the occasional fond look or comment from Jisung. Moments shared between the two of them on stage are common as well, which Minho attributes to he and Jisung having easy chemistry while performing. A few select people online theorize that Minho and Jisung must have some kind of unspoken feelings for each other.

Minho laughs at it most of the time. It doesn’t bother him, but he does find it a little funny that people take these situations out of context and jump to conclusions.

Even so, sometimes he finds himself watching the videos the entire way through, hating the way his heart leaps in his chest.

—

Minho treats Saturdays as his rest days. On Saturdays, he allows himself to sleep in until midday. He usually wakes up to the sun already at the top of the sky, and doesn’t force himself to practice any music. Some Saturdays he’ll take a walk through campus if the weather allows it, and on others he’ll simply sit at the window next to his small dining table and watch the cars pass by, a warm cup of tea in hand.

So you can imagine his dismay when he is woken up at ten in the morning to his phone repeatedly chiming with text messages.

He groans and throws a blind hand out to grab it, squinting when the screen lights up painfully against his barely open eyes. When his brain finally catches up to his body and he’s able to read the words staring back at him, he realizes the culprit is none other than Han Jisung.

[Jisung]
minho are you awake
minhoooooooooo
wake uppppppp
it’s an emergency
code red
RESPOND
i have an incredibly urgent question i need to ask you
you’re gonna hate me for this aren’t you lol
WAKE UP
WAKE UPPPPPPP

Minho painstakingly types out his response.

[Minho]
don’t you have your songwriting shit to do with changbin today
geez jisung

[Jisung]
you’re awake!!!! :D 
no changbin wants to work on a song he’s writing by himself today
so i am free all day
and bored
wanna get coffee

Minho scoffs at his screen in disbelief.

[Minho]
this was your code red?

[Jisung]
yes.

[Minho]
ask hyunjin
my saturdays are sacred

Despite the harsh tone in his messages, he doesn’t put his phone back on his nightstand. Instead, he stares at Jisung’s typing bubble and waits for a response.

[Jisung]
nobody appreciates coffee cuisine the way you do
cmon minhooooo pleeeease???
i can be part of your sacred saturdays!!!

Minho hates the way the butterflies that live in his stomach flutter at the idea of Jisung being a regular part of his weekly routine. He squeezes his eyes shut, willing the frivolous thought to go away. The next thing he knows, his fingers are typing on their own accord.

[Minho]
fine

They arrange to meet at a coffee shop near Minho’s apartment. Minho proceeds to drag himself out of bed to get ready, wondering what possessed him to give into Jisung’s requests as he tugs a light t-shirt on.

Before he leaves, he makes sure to pull on a baseball cap and a face mask. Since Volcano had been released, he’d been recognized in public ten times more often than before. It didn’t help that he’s still in the town that they originated from. To allow himself to have a more normal experience in public, he wears the mask and hat to conceal his identity.

He decides to walk to the coffee shop. The weather is beautiful, the sun streaming down on his shoulders as he walks through a nearby park.

When he arrives at the coffee shop, he spots Jisung within seconds. It looks like he had a similar idea to Minho, opting instead for sunglasses and a hood pulled over his head to cover his discernible features. His black fringe falls into his eyes, and he grins when the door chimes as Minho enters the coffee shop.

“Knew you’d come,” He boasts as Minho saunters over to where he’s sitting.

Minho frowns down at him. “Are we getting coffee, or what?”

It’s too warm outside for hot coffee, so the two of them both order iced drinks. Minho decides on a vanilla latte, while Jisung gets an americano with sugar.

“Wanna try?” He asks when they sit back down at their table in the corner of the shop, offering his drink to Minho. He’s taken off his sunglasses, revealing his oval eyes. He leaves his hood up.

Minho sips his own drink and shakes his head. “Have it to yourself.”

Jisung smiles softly around his straw. Minho pretends not to notice.

“Changbin has talked about this place before,” Jisung comments, studying his surroundings. “Do you guys regularly come here?”

Minho shrugs. “It’s near my apartment, so we used to come a lot when I first moved in during my last year of university. He’d be over at my place, and it would be the most convenient spot to get coffee.” He gently chews at the tip of his straw with the corner of his mouth. “I haven’t been in a while, though.”

Jisung hums. “Well, Changbin swears by this place. I was excited when you suggested it; I’ve been looking for an opportunity to try it for a while.”
Minho had surprised himself when the shop popped into his head. He hadn’t been in a few months, but he felt that it was the right option for the day.

Then he remembers the whole reason Jisung had asked Minho to get coffee. He snaps his fingers. “You said Changbin was writing his own song today. That called the entire day off for you? You don’t have any songs of your own you’re working on?”

Jisung sighs. “I can write with Changbin, no problem, but I’ve had some major writer’s block while writing by myself.” He chuckles humorlessly. “Ironic, isn’t it? I thought when I wrote Slump I’d get out of it, but all I got was that one song.”

Jisung gnaws on his bottom lip, peeking up at Minho to make sure it’s okay to continue. Minho nods silently. 

Jisung shuts his eyes. “Sometimes I get into these weird funks where I feel like I shouldn’t be making music. Not after…” He trails off, then shakes his head. “It’s stupid. And it’s not like I don"t want to be making music, it’s just anxiety feeding silly thoughts into my head. I’m so stuck on something that happened in the past, and I let it control my emotions sometimes.”

Minho wants to pry, but he bites his tongue. They don’t have serious conversations very often, and Minho isn’t sure what course of action to take. He briefly wonders if this is related to the reason Jisung had taken a break from music.

“Maybe,” He says, drumming his fingers on the table. “You could dig up an old song? One that still resonates with you. Do some surgery. Make it fresh again. Then it’ll be like revisiting something that meant a lot to you in the past, except you’re making it your present self’s song as well as your past self.”

Jisung blinks. An odd look in his eyes slowly develops, and Minho can’t quite work out what it means. The weight of Jisung’s gaze is heavy, and Minho struggles not to release eye contact under the pressure of it. But before Minho gets a chance to analyze the situation, Jisung is reaching over the table to playfully shove at Minho’s arm. 

“You spend all your time trying to seem all brooding and mysterious, but you’re secretly a softie. I see through you.”

Minho refrains from shaking himself out of a stupor. He neutralizes his expression instead, narrowing his eyes at the younger boy. “I don’t try to seem like anything. And anyway, who says I didn’t just say that so we can have more song material?” 

Jisung’s lips twitch into a smile. “Like I said, I see through you.”

No, you don’t. If you did then you’d see–

Fuck. Nope. Minho cuts off that train of thought before it can get too far.

In an attempt to break the trance he’s found himself in, he haphazardly reaches across the table to grab Jisung’s drink. He takes a sip, allowing the bitter taste to sit in his mouth before he swallows it down with the rest of his feelings. “Not bad.” 

Jisung scoffs. “What happened to having it for myself?” 

“Changed my mind. I deserve it after all those horrible things you said about me.” 

“What are you talking about? I haven’t said a single mean thing!”

They sit in the coffee shop for a while longer before Jisung decides it’s too nice outside to be holed up indoors. They walk side by side in the sunlight, making their way back to the park. They stroll through the grass and marvel at the shade of green the summer weather has made the grass.

At some point, Jisung persuades Minho to lie on the ground with him to stare at the clouds. This is how Minho finds himself on his back, side by side with Jisung in the middle of the park, their drinks long gone. They don’t speak, but the silence is comfortable. The grass tickles Minho’s ears and the back of his legs, but the feeling grounds him in a strange way.

Minho finds his gaze wandering from the sky to Jisung’s side profile. His hair has fallen away from his forehead, allowing the rays to pour down onto his face. A soft smile plays on his lips, and the sunlight makes his brown eyes glow a hazelnut color.

Minho indulges himself in staring for a bit longer than he should. Somehow, the serenity in Jisung’s expression makes Minho calm, as well. He feels as though he could happily sink into the ground right then and there, set to stay forever if Jisung was by his side.

He blinks. Maybe he should give up on trying to avoid the affectionate thoughts. They’re becoming impossible to escape.

Minho rejoins Jisung in watching the sky. “You know, we never finished that drama.”

In his peripheral vision, he sees Jisung turn his head to look at him, resting his cheek in the grass. “Guess we didn’t.”

Minho refuses to tear his eyes away from a cloud that looks like a turtle. His brain screams at him to cut the conversation right where it is. His Saturdays are sacred, goddamnit. 

But his logical reasoning doesn’t seem to matter in the end, because apparently his mouth has a mind of its own. “Are you up to finishing it today? My place is a short walk from here.”

He feels Jisung’s grin before he sees it. “Sure.”

—

Hours after Jisung goes home for the night, Minho is up far too late. He’s allowed himself to fall into a rabbit hole of online videos, and now it’s nearly two in the morning and he’s still awake.

He’s just about to shut his laptop down and go to sleep when his phone starts buzzing. He looks down to see Jisung is calling him. Confused, yet intrigued, he picks up.

“Can’t get enough of me for one day, huh?” He teases.

“Listen, I took your advice.” Jisung’s voice is softer and deeper; presumably from being tired. He’s speaking with a different tone, one that Minho hasn’t heard from him yet. It’s somehow less guarded. Although the vocalist sounds sleepy, he seems as though he has something pressing he needs to talk to Minho about.

“Which part?” Minho asks. “I have a lot of great advice.”

Jisung lets out a hushed chuckle, and the sound reverberates in Minho’s mind. “What you told me this morning about working on an old song. I did that, and fuck, that’s the best idea you’ve ever had. I feel like my brain was recalibrated.”

Minho’s heart soars at the good news and the praise, and he fights down a smile. “That’s great, Jisung.”

“Thank you. I mean it. But… I was wondering if I could play this one part for you?”

Minho’s pulse nearly flatlines. “Of course,” He murmurs.

There’s some shuffling on the other end of the line, followed by the sound of an accidental pluck of a guitar string. 

“It’s called ‘19’,” Jisung says. “I originally wrote it during my first year of university, while I was still getting used to making music again. I was thinking about cutting out the final chorus and going straight from the bridge into the outro.” He pauses. “It’s okay if I try that out? Just to get a second opinion?”

Minho holds down a fond laugh at Jisung’s apprehension. “Start whenever you’re ready, Jisungie.”

There’s a startled break on the other end. “A-ah. Okay. Right. Um, here it is.”

Before Minho can question Jisung’s reaction, tinny guitar chords are filling the stillness of his room.

There’s something different about hearing Jisung play a new song for him when the rest of the band isn’t there. Maybe Minho is imagining it, but Jisung’s voice seems more vulnerable. It’s obvious the song really means something to the vocalist. He sings the lyrics with care, cradling each word like it"s made of porcelain. Minho closes his eyes, allowing Jisung’s voice to wash over him as he carefully listens to the song. Part of Minho is glad that he can’t see Jisung’s face, because he isn’t sure what he’d do if he could.

After the bridge, Jisung echoes the final line as his guitar gets softer, singing until the last seconds of the song. Minho hears him take a slow breath, followed by the sound of him putting his guitar to the side.

“What did you think?” He all but whispers.

Minho worries at his bottom lip with his teeth, trying not to let his emotions show in his voice. “If you included the chorus after the bridge, would that last part be cut out?”

“No,” Jisung says. “It would still be there.”

“Hm,” Minho thinks about what he’d just heard. “I like what you played me. I think it would be awkward if you tried to cram the chorus in one last time. The bridge flows really nicely into the outro.”

“Okay. Great. That’s what I thought, too.” Jisung pauses, as if he’s thinking about something. Minho waits patiently.

Finally: “Did you like the song?”

Jisung’s voice is timid. Unsure. Minho wants to scream that Jisung doesn’t need to be insecure about his music, that it’s some of the most beautiful work Minho has ever heard.

Instead, he swallows down his words. “Yes, Jisung. It was great. You should show it to Chan and Changbin and the rest of the band.”

Jisung releases a shaky breath. “Okay.”

“I’ll see you Wednesday, yeah?” Minho hums.

“Yeah, of course.” There’s a beat where neither of them speak. “Minho, I…”

Jisung trails off. Minho blinks down at his phone. “Hm? What is it?”

There’s more shuffling on the other end. “Nothing. Thank you, that’s all. I appreciate you. Sleep well.”

Then he hangs up, and Minho’s room is silent again.

—

Somewhere along the way, the two of them begin seeing each other outside of band activities quite a bit. Whenever they finish a recording session, a performance, or an interview, one of them always ends up at the other’s apartment. If Jisung gets bored on an off day, he texts Minho first. Besides Chan and Changbin, Minho is usually the first to hear songs that Jisung is working on.

Minho shouldn’t be surprised that they grew close so quickly. It’s easy to be around Jisung. They share a surprising number of interests. Minho never feels like he needs to act a certain way around him, or say certain things to keep conversation going. If Minho needs to be around someone without having to think too much or put a lot of social effort in, Jisung is his go-to.

Even the rest of the band starts to get used to it. They don’t look twice when Jisung climbs into Minho’s car after a rehearsal, and they naturally assume one of them is with the other on days that they have nothing scheduled.

The band ends up recording 19, just as Minho had expected. They go on to record a few more songs in the following weeks, most of which are written by both Jisung and Changbin. They do, however, include the song Changbin had written by himself, which he had decided to name “Ex.”

The band goes in the following Wednesday with no idea what they’re doing next. That is, until Jisung shows them a song of his own.

It’s called “Close.” Jisung hadn’t played any of it for Minho yet, so it’s completely new to him. When he sings it for the group, the lyrics are about finding someone enrapturing and being desperate to know more about them. Yet when you try to speak to them, you’re awkward and shy. It’s a cute, pretty song about having a crush that Minho knows the fans will love.

“I wrote it right after I joined the band,” Jisung explains. “I wanted to offer it up earlier, but I wasn’t sure if it would fit in with the rest of the album.”

“I think it balances it out a bit more,” Chan comments. “It shows your range as a band. We have the more intense songs like Beware, and the hard-hitting emotional ones like Voices and Volcano. It’s nice to have a feel-good ballad in the mix.”

“These lyrics, Jisung…” Hyunjin chuckles, wiggling his eyebrows at the vocalist. “You have someone special you want to tell us about?”

Jisung looks down at his feet and laughs awkwardly, his cheeks going red. Minho isn’t oblivious to the way his stomach turns when Jisung doesn’t answer the question.

Recording goes smoothly, and the song comes together to be exactly what Jisung had envisioned. As Minho listens to Jisung sing, he tries not to imagine Jisung clumsily flirting with someone that isn’t him.

—

“So how’s the songwriting going?”

Minho and Changbin sit in Changbin’s living room with a movie that neither of them are really paying attention to droning in the background.

“Good,” Changbin says. “Jisung and I have a few songs we’re working on together. I have one of my own, and I’m pretty sure he has one of his own, as well.”

Minho lets out a low whistle. “He’s written a ton of songs on the album by himself, hasn’t he?”

“After this one is finished and cleared, it’ll be five.” Changbin sighs, huffing out a short laugh. “He told me he wants to focus on our jointly written songs after that. I think he just had a lot of ideas he’s been wanting to get out there.”

Minho scratches the back of his neck. “He works hard.”

Changbin cracks a smile. “Yeah. He puts his everything into music. He’s so careful about every single lyric he writes. Each word is carefully crafted.” He rests his hands behind his head, shifting on the couch. “I’m lucky to be able to write with someone like him.”

Minho feels his heart swell fondly in his chest at Changbin’s words. “Well, the stuff you guys have produced together is…” He trails off when Changbin looks at him, a hopeful look in his eyes. 

He smirks at the bassist. “Not terrible.”

Changbin kicks his thigh as Minho laughs at his reaction. “I’m serious!” He protests. “Writing Voices was nothing short of a surreal experience. We really connected over that song. I feel like we understood exactly what the other was feeling, and we were able to attach our separate hardships to it.”

Voices had been a whirlwind of a song to record. When it came time to learn the song, Jisung and Changbin had asked Minho if he could sing the backup vocals in the chorus. He’d been confused; he’d never sung on any of their songs. Apparently, Changbin had let it slip that Minho is able to hold a note. That’s how Minho had found himself in the recording booth, singing falsetto notes for the peak of the chorus.

Minho nods. “Yeah, I like that one.”

Changbin rolls his eyes. “I know why you like it.”

“It’s not like that!” Minho folds his arms across his chest, fighting the urge to pout defensively. “It’s cool I get to sing, but I enjoy that song outside of that. The guitar part is cool.”

Changbin snorts. “Well, your voice sounds great on it, either way. It’s a good song. Wouldn’t have been able to write it without Jisung.”

Minho points an accusatory finger at his friend. “And he wouldn’t have been able to write it without you.”

Changbin bites back a grin. “Yeah, I guess that’s true.”

—

Changbin finishes the song he’d been working on. They record it in a flash, the song easy to learn. Minho likes it; while it’s ballad-like, there’s still a hint of energy that makes it fun to play.

The week after that, Jisung’s song is ready. It’s called “Sunshine.”

When Jisung plays it for them, Minho feels a strange pull towards it. On first listen, he’s immediately attached to it. The lyrics aren’t anything crazy. In fact, all it’s about is being at peace with life. But something about it tethers Minho in.

They get to work, the first two days of recording going by quickly. They get each of their parts recorded. Felix has a more prominent part on keyboard in this song, and Hyunjin’s drums are a bit mellower. Minho’s part is pretty simple, and he gets it done in thirty minutes.

After the second day of recording Sunshine, Minho goes back to Jisung’s apartment. As soon as they step in the front door, Jisung beelines to his kitchen. “How would you feel about drinking tonight?”

Minho raises an eyebrow as he toes off his shoes. “Don’t you have to go in and record with Chan tomorrow? By yourself?”

Jisung makes a face over his shoulder as he pulls a bottle of vodka from his cabinet. “It’s not like I’m planning on blacking out. I just think we deserve to have a little fun once in a while.”

Minho purses his lips as Jisung takes juice out of his fridge. He waves the two bottles around in the air as if he’s trying to tantalize Minho. “C’mon!”

Minho rolls his eyes and marches over to snatch a cup from Jisung’s counter. “Peer pressure much?”

Jisung makes them both a mixed drink then brings their drinks into the living room, Minho trailing closely behind him with the ingredients, just in case. They settle in and turn on an anime that Jisung likes, switching between watching the show while sipping their drinks and having stupid, meaningless conversations.

One drink turns into two, and before Minho realizes what’s happened he’s making a third. He’s slightly tipsy, and has somehow gotten himself tangled into telling a story about Seungmin and Changbin getting into an argument over a song in their early days as a band.

And Jisung’s head has found its way into his lap. That too.

“And then,” He laughs, trying to contain himself so he can finish what he’s saying. “Changbin says something like, ‘Maybe you should write the songs, then!’ And Seungmin goes, ‘Maybe I will!’” Minho chuckles, shaking his head at the memory. “It seemed so serious at the time, but it really wasn’t that big of a deal.”

“So what’d they do?” Jisung giggles.

Minho swallows down a mouthful of his drink. “They took some time to cool down, then had an actual conversation about it. They decided that they should write some songs together so that Seungmin could be happier with what he was singing. That’s how ‘My Universe’ came to be.” Minho smiles at the memory of performing the song. “That was the first song Seungmin had ever taken part in writing.”

Jisung stares up at Minho with his doe eyes. “I’m glad Changbin asked me to write songs with him. I feel like I learned a lot from him, even though it’s only been, what? Six months since I joined the band?” He pauses. “Woah. It’s been six months.”

Minho chuckles. “Are you gonna tell me that time flies?”

Jisung grins up at the guitarist. “You read my mind.”

Minho scoffs and allows his head to fall backwards. He stares at the ceiling, all too aware of the weight of Jisung’s head on his thigh.

“And almost a year since I wrote Volcano,” Jisung mutters. 

Minho smirks, but doesn’t lift his head. “That song really wasn’t about anyone?” He asks. “Don’t lie.”

Jisung’s laughter bubbles up from below Minho. “It really wasn’t about anyone. Honestly, when I wrote that I was more focused on writing something about being queer.”

Minho’s brain comes to a befuddled halt. He slowly tilts his head to look down at the boy in his lap. “That song is about being queer?”

Jisung shoots him an incredulous look before abruptly sitting upright. “You didn’t know?”

Minho blinks at the vocalist. “No…?”

“You’re kidding.” Jisung stares at Minho, waiting for him to agree that yes, he is kidding. When Minho says nothing of the sort, Jisung lets out a disbelieving laugh. “You got absolutely nothing from the lyric ‘To me, you’re already a sin’?”

The pieces suddenly click in Minho’s head.

He blanches. “Are you serious? When I asked you about that specific lyric, you told me it was ‘nothing’ and that you ‘made it up on the spot’!”

Jisung throws his hands in the air. “That was before I knew you like I do now!”

Minho frowns. “Did you think I might’ve been homophobic, or something?”

“No!” Jisung lets his gaze fall to his hands. “Just a knee jerk reaction. I wouldn’t have stayed – let alone auditioned for the band – if I’d thought any of you were like that.”

Minho stares at Jisung for another moment, shellshocked. Then he feels himself beginning to smile. 

He giggles somewhat hysterically, shaking his head to himself. “Playing that song is going to mean a whole lot more to me now. Shit.”

Jisung blinks. “Really?”

“Of course it is.” Minho nestles farther into the couch, sighing as he closes his eyes. He must have more alcohol in his system than he’d realized, because the next thing he knows he’s softly singing the part of the song the two of them had been talking about. He hums a few lines to himself, keeping his eyes closed as he pictures the next time they’ll perform the song. He imagines what it’ll be like listening to Jisung sing those lyrics now that he knows the true meaning of them.

He tapers off his singing, allowing himself to listen to the hushed sounds coming from the TV as he keeps his eyes shut for a little while longer. He waits for Jisung’s next witty comment, for him to continue the conversation.

But when Jisung is too quiet for his liking, he gets concerned. He opens his eyes to give Jisung a questioning look, but his voice catches in his throat when he turns to the vocalist.

Jisung is looking at him with an unusual expression. His eyes study Minho’s face, darting from his eyes to his mouth and back again. His lips are slightly parted, and his gaze shines with something that Minho can’t make out. For some reason, Minho’s pulse goes wild.

“You okay?” He breathes.

“Yeah,” Jisung whispers, as if in a stupor. Then his focus zeroes in on Minho’s lips.

Minho tries not to let his expression give him away, but he’s sure he’s already failed. He isn’t sure what to do under Jisung’s gaze other than stare back, shamelessly studying his face and trying to get any hint of what the other boy was thinking. If it’s what Minho thinks it might be, then maybe…

Minho suppresses the urge to shake the thought away. If that is what Jisung wants, then he can do it himself. Minho would accept it gladly.

Fuck. There it is.

Jisung still hasn’t stopped staring. Minho swallows down any nerves that had been left and leans forward the tiniest bit, tilting his head to the side. “What’re you thinking?” He murmurs.

Jisung’s eyelids flutter, and suddenly the trance is broken. He jerks backward, his face turning beet red as his eyes dart around the room to look at anything other than Minho’s face. “Oh! Uh, a-actually I was just thinking…”

Minho tries to ignore the way the hope that had bloomed now deflates as he folds his arms over his chest, slouching back into the couch. “What?”

Jisung squeezes his eyes shut for a second, taking a deep breath. When he opens them again, it’s as if nothing had happened. “Why haven’t you sung in any of our songs?”

Minho furrows his eyebrows. “Huh?”

“You have a beautiful voice!” Jisung insists. “Your falsetto on Voices is amazing. I’ve heard you humming to yourself during rehearsal. And just now?” He throws himself backwards into the cushions. “Stunning!”

Minho feels his ears heating up and covers his neck with both of his palms to hide the redness. “My voice isn’t anything special. I can hold a note, but I’m nowhere near the same level as you or Seungmin. Why should I be on the songs when you can do it better?”

“Shut the fuck up!” Jisung barks as he sits back up. “Your voice is really pretty. It’d be perfect for some of our songs. Sometimes, my voice isn’t what’s right for certain parts. Your tone is what we need for stuff like–” 

Jisung cuts himself off. His eyes widen as if something dawns on him. He gapes at Minho.

The said guitarist scowls at him. “What now?”

Jisung gawks for a second longer before he clamps his mouth shut and snaps his fingers decisively. “Come to the studio tomorrow.”

Minho frowns. “Why? I finished recording my part. Do you want me to do it again?”

Jisung shakes his head. “No, that was perfect. Just… come in. I always meet Chan at the same time we do on Wednesdays and Thursdays.”

Minho stares at him.

Jisung juts out his bottom lip. “Please?”

As soon as Jisung starts to pout, Minho sighs. He knows there’s no way he’ll work out what he’s getting himself into until he’s in the midst of it.

“Fine.”

—

When Minho walks into the studio the next morning, he’s met with the sight of Jisung and Chan in the midst of a hushed conversation.

He notes how strange it is to see the studio without the rest of the band members. He’s so accustomed to a full house, the five of them plus Chan stuffed into the control room. When it’s only Chan and Jisung, it all seems much more daunting.

They turn around when the sound of the door closing behind Minho reverberates around the room. Jisung’s face lights up at the sight of Minho, and he beckons the guitarist over.

“You know why you’re here, right?” He says as Minho strolls over to the mixing board. 

“You want me to sing some backup vocals, or something?” Minho deadpans.

Jisung bites his lip, barely containing his very obvious excitement. “Not exactly.”

Minho narrows his eyes at Jisung before aiming his hard gaze at Chan. “What’s going on?”

Chan swivels back and forth in his chair. “Jisung thought it would be good for you to have a more prominent part in Sunshine.”

“Meaning?”

Jisung grins. “How would you feel about singing the pre-chorus and the chorus?”

Minho freezes, his exasperation evaporating in an instant. “As in… throughout the song?”

Jisung nods.

“Even when we sing it live?”

Jisung nods again, Chan joining him this time.

Minho blinks once. Twice. Then he snaps out of his shell shocked daze.

“Why aren’t you singing it?” He demands. “Nobody else has ever had this big of a part in our songs! Why can’t I just sing some ooh’s, or something?”

Jisung shrugs, shaking his head. “I’ve always felt like something was missing from this song, but I couldn’t work out what it was. Every time I sang the chorus, it didn’t sound quite right. But then I heard you sing last night, and–” He snaps his fingers. “It clicked. This song needs you to sing the chorus. And don’t get me started on your falsetto on the pre-chorus. Come on, you can’t deny how perfect it’ll sound.”

Minho wills his ears not to burn up, just this once. He folds his arms over his chest, sealing his lips shut.

“But also,” Jisung continues, his voice getting softer. “I could see how much you liked the song yesterday. You liked playing it, didn’t you?”

Minho vividly remembers lip-syncing the lyrics to himself as he recorded his guitar part the day before. He says nothing.

“Minho,” Chan interrupts. “I think this will be a great addition. It’ll get you out of your shell. And Jisung’s right; your voice really suits Sunshine. I can see a connection between you and the song.”

Minho’s eyes dart between the two of them. He pictures himself on stage, strumming along to the song as he croons the lyrics to the chorus. He pretends that the image of Jisung watching him the same way he had the night before isn’t included in the vision.

He exhales through his nose and allows his arms to drop to his sides. “Okay. Sure.”

Jisung whoops in celebration. He grabs a piece of paper from his bag and stands up to grab Minho’s shoulders. He turns him around and shuffles him towards the recording booth, wrapping an arm around the guitarist to slip the piece of paper into Minho’s hands. When Minho takes it, he realizes it’s the lyrics.

“Do you know the melody?” Jisung murmurs in Minho’s ear. His breath fans across Minho’s cheek as he speaks, hot against his skin. “I thought I heard you humming it while we were recording yesterday.”

Minho stares straight ahead, wishing the floor would just swallow him whole.

He shoves down his pride and nods. “Yeah, I know it.”

Jisung gives his shoulders a reassuring squeeze before releasing him. “You’ll be amazing, alright? I wouldn’t ask you to do this if I didn’t think you could do it.”

Jisung’s words ease Minho’s nerves. His pulse has slowed down by the time he’s standing in front of the microphone and slipping on a pair of headphones.

He turns away from the microphone to warm up his vocal chords, using the opportunity to mentally prepare himself. He’s about to record vocals for Jisung’s song.

“Alright, so,” Chan’s voice speaks over the headphones. Minho looks at him through the glass. “We’ll start with the pre-chorus. You’ll get an eight-count, then you’re good to start. Once we have what we need for the pre-chorus, we can move on to the chorus. Does that sound okay?”

Minho gives the producer a thumbs up.

Chan mirrors the gesture and presses a button on the control board.

The demo version of Sunshine plays in Minho’s ears alongside a metronome. He counts off the beats, listening to Jisung’s voice sing the first verse. He takes a deep breath at the end of the eight count and begins singing.

He keeps his voice light and airy, trying to fit the mood of the song. He closes his eyes, allowing the sound of the soft guitar to take over any other thought he might’ve had before. He sings on autopilot, only opening his eyes once in a while to check the lyrics.

When he finishes the first take, he slowly peels open his eyelids, peering at Jisung and Chan.

But then Minho makes eye contact with Jisung, and the rest of the studio melts away. Jisung is watching him with shining eyes, his expression one of awe. The emotion in Jisung’s eyes makes Minho want to dissolve into the ground, yet he isn’t able to tear his eyes away. 

Jisung leans into the microphone in front of him, never breaking eye contact as he does so. He stares at Minho through his dark eyelashes.

“See?” Jisung"s low voice directly in Minho’s ears is nearly too much for the guitarist to handle, but he doesn’t back down. Instead, he tilts his head at Jisung, holding eye contact.

Jisung lips twitch into a small smile. “Told you it’d be perfect.”

Minho wonders if he’d imagined the tenderness in Jisung’s smile.

—

The following Wednesday, they’re all huddled in the practice room, instruments set up and a song ready to go when Chan tells them he has news.

“Here’s the thing,” Chan sighs. “The label is really pressing for an album name. They want to announce the release, and we can’t really do that without a name.”

Minho groans, leaning back in the seat he’d taken. “We’ve been trying for weeks. None of us can agree on anything.”

“Well, who’s fault is that?” Hyunjin accuses. “You don’t like anything anyone suggests!”

“I’m allowed to be picky, aren’t I? It’s our debut album, for fuck’s sake, the name needs to be good!”

“I’ve made so many good suggestions!”

“Hyunjin,” Changbin cuts in gently. “You really haven’t. And that’s okay.”

Hyunjin turns to Changbin with a scandalized look. “You traitor.”

“Actually,” Felix speaks up. Chan and the rest of the band turns to look at him. “I had an idea the other day.”

Chan gestures for him to continue.

Felix swallows. “After Seungmin left the band, the four of us really thought that was the end of Murk, didn’t we?” 

The rest of the band murmurs their agreements.

Felix nods. “Right. Well, this is the first big project we’ve released with Jisung. I mean, shit, let’s be honest, we’re releasing this album because of Jisung. If Jisung hadn’t joined the band, we wouldn’t be where we are today. The four of us and Jisung came together to make it this far. So, I thought… What if we called the album Collide?” He scans the room for reactions. “Since we ‘collided’ with Jisung. I feel like it fits.”

Chan’s face lights up, and he turns to the rest of the band to wait for their opinions.

“God, Yongbok, that’s great!” Changbin breathes, beaming. “Why didn’t you say anything sooner?”

Felix bites back a smile. “I thought it might’ve been stupid. I don’t know.”

Hyunjin kicks the back of Felix’s knee. “Dumbass. It’s not stupid.”

Minho glances at Jisung. He swears he can see tears welling in the vocalist’s eyes.

Chan looks between Minho and Jisung. “What are your verdicts?”

Minho nods, smiling at his brother. “I love it.”

“Yeah,” Jisung rasps in agreement. He sounds like he’s about to cry. “Fuck, I love you guys.”

Minho has no time to react before he’s being pulled into a group hug. He grumbles in protest, but doesn’t make any effort to pull away; not when his bandmates’ arms are like a warm blanket around his shoulders.

—

They manage to record two more songs, both of them co-written by Changbin and Jisung. Shortly after that, they’re recording the final song on the album.

It’s called “Time Out.” It is also co-written by Changbin and Jisung. It has an upbeat, lighthearted tune about being carefree. When Minho asks the songwriters why they wrote such a summerish song for an album that’s set to be released in the middle of autumn, they claim that people are “always looking for an excuse to act like it’s summer.”

They’re halfway through recording the instrumental with Changbin in the recording booth. Minho sits at the back of the control room, idly scrolling through his camera roll as he listens to Changbin play.

Jisung ambles over and plops down next to Minho, allowing his head to tiredly drop onto the older boy’s shoulder. Minho adjusts his position so Jisung can comfortably rest on him.

“You don’t wanna monitor his part?” Minho asks.

Jisung shakes his head, his hair brushing against Minho’s neck. “Nah. Changbin knows what he’s doing.”

“And the rest of us don’t?”

Jisung glares at Minho the best he can at the awkward angle. “You know what I mean.”

Minho chuckles and returns to his phone. He checks the date he’s mindlessly scrolled up to, and notices he’s already two years deep.

He pauses as his thumb brushes over a picture he recognizes. He taps it to make it full-sized, realizing it’s one he’d taken in the first months that Murk had existed.

It’s taken from Minho’s perspective. Changbin, Felix, Seungmin, and Hyunjin are all huddled around a laptop. Changbin has his hand on the laptop’s touchpad, his chin resting on the table with Felix’s head hovering above him. The four of them are intently staring at the screen, seemingly invested in the production of one of their first songs.

Minho smiles fondly at his phone. He remembers thinking the four of them had looked adorable, so he’d pulled out his phone and snapped a picture to immortalize the moment. Part of him yearns for the naivety the five of them had at that time.

“Do you miss him?” Jisung mumbles from his shoulder.

Minho looks at Jisung through the corner of his eye. “Huh?”

Jisung points at Minho’s phone screen. “Seungmin.”

“Oh.” Minho pauses, contemplating his words and his own feelings. “I mean, yeah. Of course I do. But,” He nudges Jisung with his shoulder when he feels the younger boy begin to deflate. “I can miss something and still be happy with what I have. I wouldn’t change a thing that happened. If Seungmin hadn’t left, we never would’ve met you, would we?” Minho shakes his head. “We couldn’t be more grateful that you’re in the band, Jisung. You’re one of us just as much as Seungmin is.”

Minho isn’t sure where the words are coming from as they spill from his mouth. He isn’t usually this open about his feelings when it comes to other people.

But his worries fly away when Jisung looks up at him with a grateful twinkle in his eyes. “Yeah?”

He looks down at Jisung with fond eyes. “Yeah.”

Jisung flashes a shy smile, nestling further into Minho’s side.

—

The night that they finish recording Time Out, the band – plus Chan – decides they deserve to celebrate.

Minho meets the group at a bar downtown. The six of them wait in line for a while, the music inside blaring as they laugh amongst themselves.

Once they make it inside, the bass of the song on the speakers blasts in Minho’s ears. They push their way towards the bar, one by one ordering a drink.

The night passes in a blur. Minho flits between dancing with Hyunjin and Felix, ordering more drinks, and wandering around to chat with strangers in the crowd. Minho feels a light buzz coming on, knowing he’ll be drunk by the end of the night.

Half an hour into their evening out, he finds himself making his way back to the bar with Felix and Jisung. He orders the three of them another drink, finding a seat on a barstool as he waits on his drink.

“So,” Felix half-yells over the music, grinning at his bandmates. “How well do you guys think the album will do?”

“Global fame,” Jisung proclaims. His cheeks are flushed, and Minho makes a mental note not to let the vocalist go overboard with the drinking. “Top of the charts. World tours.”

Minho barks out a laugh. “You seem confident.”

Jisung snaps and points a finger at the Lee brothers. “It’s called manifesting.”

Felix giggles, crossing his arms over his chest. “Do you actually do that stuff?”

Jisung shrugs. “I don’t take it super seriously, but…” He trails off, rubbing his neck. “I actually did try it a little before I auditioned for Murk. I was really nervous.”

Felix’s eyebrows shoot up. “Holy shit. Maybe I should try it.”

“Or maybe,” Minho cuts in. “Jisung is just good at what he does.”

“Who says I didn’t manifest my skills?” Jisung grins exuberantly.

Minho narrows his eyes. “Don’t discredit yourself.”

Jisung’s grin morphs into an unusually cocky smirk. He leans forward, his hand falling heavily onto Minho’s thigh. “Oh, I would never, Minho.”

Felix’s gaze flickers down to Jisung’s hand. The drinks arrive, and he snatches his away. “I’m gonna go dance!” He yelps, already slipping into the crowd.

Minho is hyper-aware of the warmth of Jisung’s hand seeping through his jeans and into his skin. He grabs his drink, distracting himself with the icy sweet flavor and the burn in his throat as he swallows the alcohol.

“Did you do your hair yourself?” His mouth moves before his brain can catch up. He faintly notes that Jisung’s hair looks far more styled than it usually would off stage.

Jisung smiles. He takes his hand off of Minho’s thigh to comb his fingers through his strands of black hair. “Yeah. I don’t usually do anything with it, but I wanted to look nice tonight.” He peeks at Minho through his eyelashes. “Why? Do you like it?”

Minho takes the opportunity to really take in Jisung’s appearance. He’s wearing ripped, black jeans and a graphic t-shirt that’s cropped just below the waistband. He’s put smudged eyeliner around his eyes, making his stare aimed at Minho much darker than it normally would be.

Minho realizes he might be completely fucked.

He ignores the way his stomach lurches in favor of shrugging at the vocalist. “Looks like one of our stylists did it.”

Jisung’s eyes light up. “You think so? Man, I spent way too long on it than I should’ve. Doing hair is harder than it looks.”

Minho sips his drink. “That’s true.”

Jisung blinks at Minho. “You do your own hair, right? You always do a really good job with it.”

Minho feels his ears heating up. He reaches up to twirl a strand of his fringe between his fingers. “It’s just because I’ve been doing it since my second year of university. Got sick of having bangs in my eyes every time I went to a party.”

Jisung hums in understanding. “Wish I could do it the way you do. I feel like this,” He gestures at his head. “Is such a basic hairstyle.”

And Minho must be drunk already, because suddenly he has a plot to get payback for Jisung making him flustered. He dips right into Jisung’s personal space and grins, locking eyes with the vocalist. “You want me to teach you, Jisungie?” His words are sickly sweet, his tone dripping as he speaks. God, what is he doing?

Minho watches Jisung’s expression change to something darker, his adam"s apple bobbing in his throat. “That’d be nice,” He murmurs.

Minho holds his position for a moment or two longer. Once he decides that he’s effectively gotten his revenge, he chuckles and moves away. Maybe he’s seeing things, but he swears he sees disappointment flicker on Jisung’s face.

“I’ll have to teach you before the album release. We won’t have any time afterwards.”

Jisung winces. “I’ll probably be pretty busy even before the album is released. School is starting soon, and Chan asked Changbin and I if we wanted to help with album production.” He smiles apologetically. “I mean, how could we turn that down?”

Minho tries not to let his heart sink at the thought of Jisung being too busy to see him. He should be happy for him. Why isn’t he happy for him?

“That’s great. Really exciting.” His voice sounds forced, and he suppresses the urge to cringe at his own words.

Jisung must notice his strained tone, because he bites his lip as if he’s holding back laughter. “Don’t worry,” He giggles. He reaches forward and grabs Minho’s hand from where it’s sitting in his lap, lacing their fingers together and affectionately jerking their hands back and forth. “I’m still gonna hang out with you. I’ll always make time for you.”

Minho’s heart stutters. He feels his emotions start to get the best of him, suddenly unsure of what to say. He senses the conversation going down a more serious route, and panic begins to set in. 

He grabs his drink and downs what’s left of it, slamming the glass down on the bar. “Do you wanna dance?”

Jisung starts at the change in subject, but beams nonetheless. “Yeah!”

Minho stands up, leading Jisung by their already intertwined hands into the crowd.

The rest of the night is fuzzy. Minho remembers the thump of the music, the elated feeling he gets when Jisung’s face is illuminated by the colorful lights. He remembers swaying to the music, allowing his inebriated body to take control. In an even hazier memory, he remembers leaving the bar with Jisung, Jisung walking him to his apartment building, Jisung making sure he gets in safely before going to his own apartment.

Minho thinks he might’ve hugged Jisung goodbye. But maybe the alcohol made that up.

—

He wakes up the next morning to a dull headache and a multitude of texts.

[Hyunjin]
where tf are you and jisung going
NASTIES

[Felix]
MINHO WHAT ARE YOU DOING

[Changbin]
are you and jisung finally acknowledging what’s going on

Minho groans, burying his face into his pillow. When he painstakingly pulls his head back up, he opens his conversation with Changbin.

[Minho]
what are you talking about
he made sure i got home safe
that’s it

Minho is surprised to see Changbin typing immediately after he sends the text.

[Changbin]
no shit?
huh
you’re so oblivious dude

[Minho]
it’s not like that. he doesn’t feel that way

[Changbin]
but you do, right?

Minho glares at his phone.

[Minho]
fuck off

[Changbin]
anyway
have you checked twitter today

Minho blinks. He swipes out of the conversation and opens Twitter, searching up their name. Apparently, people had recognized the band at the bar. Pictures and videos of the five of them are all over Twitter, including a few of Chan, as well. There isn’t anything bad, but Minho is surprised they hadn’t noticed several people taking videos of them.

As he thumbs through the onslaught of tweets, one sticks out to him. It’s a video of him and Jisung, captioned:  HELLOOOO OMG?

He pauses his scrolling and opens the video. As soon as it plays, he immediately understands that this is going to haunt him forever.

It’s taken from a corner of the room, maybe by someone sitting at the bar. The camera points at the two of them dancing in tandem to the rhythm of the music. Minho watches with a racing heart as Jisung’s arms reach up to rest on Minho’s shoulders and wind around his neck. Jisung’s fingers twitch towards the nape of Minho’s neck as if he wants to twist them into Minho’s hair.

Just when Minho thinks it can’t get any worse, he watches himself raise clumsy hands. His palms graze against Jisung’s hips, then he presses his fingers into Jisung’s sides as he rests his hands on the curve of his waist.

Minho’s mouth goes dry. This must be why his bandmates had jumped to conclusions.

He watches the video five more times before he remembers to respond to Changbin’s text.

—

A week later, Collide is officially announced, along with its release date.

Once again, their notability in the media significantly increases. People are talking about them, and their fanbase is going crazy. 

miraclemvrk: MURK DEBUT ALBUM IN NOVEMBER IM SCREEAAMMNNIGJFBSJDSJB

insomn1a: collide is gonna be the biggest album of this year im serious

chngbinluv3r: is that why they were at that bar last week??? hahahahaha

A few days after the announcement, Chan texts the group that he wants to meet with them at the studio to talk about something. Minho tries not to let his worries spiral out of control when he reads the text.

The five of them all arrive before Chan. They anxiously sit side by side, waiting with bated breath.

Jisung has found his way to Minho’s side, pressed up against his shoulder. The video that had spread online flashes in Minho’s mind.

“So,” Minho starts, gulping down the tremor in his voice. “Did you see Twitter last week?”

Jisung barks out a laugh. “What, the stuff about us at the bar? Yeah, I saw that. Kind of scary that we didn’t see anyone taking those videos.”

Minho nods. He furrows his eyebrows, trying to work out a way to get the information he wants. “Mhm. Some of those videos were…” He licks his lips, carefully considering his words. “Interesting.”

Jisung turns to look at Minho, a knowing smile plastered on his face. “If you’re talking about that one video of the two of us, yes, I saw it.”

Minho exhales through his nose, unsure whether he should feel relieved or on edge. “Right,” He manages.

To Minho’s surprise, Jisung doesn’t flinch or become awkward like Minho had expected him to. In fact, he seems… completely comfortable with the topic. 

Jisung shrugs. “I mean, we didn’t do anything that insane. We were drunk and having fun. I think people understand that.” He examines his nails. “If anything, it’s just something the fans can have some fun with for a little while before they get over it.”

Minho feels a strange rush of dejection and embarrassment at Jisung’s words. Of course it didn’t mean anything; why would it? It had been nothing more than stupid drunk actions that they can use as fanservice. Minho isn’t sure why he’d expected anything else, or what he’d expected in the first place.

He nods silently at Jisung’s words.

The next thing he knows, Chan is bursting through the door. “Sorry I’m late!” He breathes.

The entire band stands up at his arrival, incessantly asking questions and insisting that Chan tells them what’s going on.

“Calm down!” Chan laughs, gently pushing them back towards their seats. “Don’t freak out, nothing’s wrong. But… you may want to sit down.”

They find their seats, watching Chan with wide eyes.

The older man sets down his bag and turns to the band, exhilaration sparking in his eyes. “So,” He bites his lip as if he’s trying to stop himself from getting too excited. “Oasis has proposed that you go on tour.”

—

The next two months are different from what Minho is accustomed to. The band only meets once a week to practice their set for the tour, and the rehearsals don’t last for too long.

Every now and then, the band is booked for a photoshoot or an interview in preparation for their upcoming album. All the content is set to be released around the same time as the album in order to promote it. It usually isn’t anything too complicated; all Minho has to do is answer some questions or pose for a couple photos.

However, one magazine in particular makes things a bit harder for Minho. The photographer must know a bit too much about their fanbase, because he has Minho and Jisung do some pictures as a duo. To sum it up in a few words: the poses he puts them in nearly sends Minho into cardiac arrest. 

But outside of that, the group doesn’t see much of each other. Jisung and Felix have started their final year of university, meaning Minho doesn’t get to see his brother very often. As expected, Changbin and Jisung are in the studio to work on their music. They’re there for hours at a time, arriving directly after Jisung’s classes end and not leaving until late evening.

Even so, just as he’d drunkenly promised at the bar, Jisung arrives at Minho’s apartment nearly every night after coming back from the studio. Those nights are the times when Minho feels he finally has some kind of responsibility: to take care of an exhausted Jisung. 

They don’t do or talk about much, content with enjoying each other’s company. Sometimes they watch something on Minho’s TV, or Jisung will sit beside Minho to do homework. At times, he falls asleep on Minho’s shoulder, the same way he had all those months ago. Except now, Minho doesn’t attempt to wake him up. In fact, it’s on days like this that Minho allows Jisung to stay for the night.

One evening, the two of them lie side by side on top of the covers of Minho’s bed, scrolling through their individual social media. The room is silent aside from the soft music that occasionally plays from Jisung’s phone when he watches a video.

Jisung drops his phone on his chest and runs his hands down his face. “I can’t believe we’re going on tour,” He whispers. “What the fuck?”

Minho puts down his own phone, turning his head to look at Jisung. “What do you mean? We’re Murk, the biggest rookie band!” He mocks an interview they’d done a week earlier with a bad rendition of the interviewer’s voice. “Why would you ever be surprised?”

Jisung scrunches up his nose at Minho’s impression, turning a toothy smile towards the guitarist. “Shut up.”

He looks at Minho for a second longer than usual before turning his gaze back to the ceiling. “You know what?”

“What?”

“You never told me why you began playing guitar.”

Minho purses his lips. “Didn’t think I needed to.”

Jisung scoffs. “We’re in a band together, and we’re about to go on tour. I think we should know these things about each other.”

Minho chews on his bottom lip. “It’s not a super interesting story.”

“Enlighten me.”

Minho glances at the vocalist. He’s watching Minho, his expression deadly serious. Minho considers changing the topic and talking his way out of opening up, but knows that Jisung would catch on instantly.

He sighs. “When I was younger, my dad used to play these records for me. Artists that were known for their guitar skills. It was something that my dad and I shared, just between the two of us.” He chuckles. “It was always my favorite thing to do, listen to those records with him. I always wanted to be like those guitarists, and I made sure my dad knew that.”

He fidgets with the hems of his sleeves. “When I was six, I went to a music store with my dad. I saw this tiny little guitar on the wall, meant for kids around my age. I begged and begged my dad to buy it for me, to help me ‘become like the musicians on the records.’ And so he did. I took lessons for years, and now I’m here.” He shrugs. “Performing reminds me of my family. Of Yongbok. My dad. My childhood.”

Jisung smiles softly. “It must have been really special when you started making music of your own.”

The corners of Minho’s mouth twitch up. “Yeah. Yeah, it was.”

They lie in comfortable silence for a moment, basking in Minho’s story. For some strange reason, Minho doesn’t feel exposed or vulnerable like he usually would after opening up to someone. In fact, he feels completely comfortable, glad that he’d told Jisung about that piece of his life.

He runs a hand through his hair, exhaling contentedly.

“Your hair is getting long.”

Minho blinks. He turns to look at Jisung, moving his hand to play with the strands at the nape of his neck. “I guess so.”

“Are you gonna cut it for the tour?”

“Wasn’t planning on it. I was going to let it get long.” Minho frowns. “Why? Do you think I should?”

Jisung shoots up into a sitting position, waving his hands around “No! No, I–” His cheeks turn red, and he shakes his head incessantly. “I like it. A lot. Grow it out.”

Minho smirks at Jisung’s reaction, resting his hands behind his head. “Alright. If you insist.”

Jisung scowls down at Minho. “I’m only asking because I was thinking of changing something about my look for the tour. The fans might like it.”

“Oh, yeah? What were you thinking of doing?”

Jisung shrugs helplessly. “I haven’t worked that out yet.” Then an idea seems to come to him. He grins at Minho, wiggling his eyebrows. “Should I get a piercing? How about a lip ring?”

A vision of Jisung with a hoop through the middle of his bottom lip flashes in Minho’s mind. He blinks away the image. Suddenly he’s unsure where to look, because every time he looks at Jisung his eyes dart to his mouth. “That, uh… yeah. That’d be, um–”

Jisung snorts and falls back into the bed. “I’m kidding. Don’t worry.”

Minho exhales a soft breath. “Right.”

He tries to keep his red ears buried as far into his pillow as he can for the next five minutes.

—

Collide is released mid-November. It consists of thirteen songs; six of which are written by both Changbin and Jisung and the other seven written by either Changbin or Jisung. 

The album cover ends up being from a photoshoot they’d done with the label. It’s a picture of Jisung, zoomed in on his face as he pulls the hat he’s wearing over his eyes. Written in bold letters behind his head is the name of the album.

The album skyrockets their popularity even further than before.

Volcano ends up back in the charts, this time at number 10.  A few other songs make it in as well, including Voices and Hello Stranger.

And, to Minho’s shock, so does Sunshine.

When Minho reads reviews or posts about Collide, everyone’s comment on Sunshine is about how they adore that Minho has such a prominent part in the song. He reads thousands of compliments about his voice, praising him for his falsetto and smooth tone. It’s overwhelming to see that so many people love hearing him sing.

All of the content they’d produced for the past two months are released within the first days following the album’s release. As expected, they majorly help promote the album. Minho is confident nearly a third of the streams come from people who found them in magazines, social media posts, or news articles.

(And just as he’d dreaded, Minho can’t escape the duo photoshoot he’d done with Jisung. It seems to be around every corner he turns.)

Oasis Records throws them into an intense schedule of live performances and interviews on TV channels, talk shows, or YouTube channels. They’re constantly promoting the album, and Minho is finally grateful for all the rehearsals they’d had for the past eight weeks.

A week after the release, the Collide Tour is announced.

When Minho checks the venues, he’s shocked to see how big they are. He’d expected small venues with just general admission, but the stages they’ll be performing on have sections upon sections of seats, thousands of tickets available for people to purchase.

What’s even more shocking is how quickly the seats fill up when ticket sales open. It had never hit Minho how big the band had gotten until that moment.

—

Two weeks before the tour starts, Minho and Felix go to their parents’ house for a weekend.

It’s a nice break from their regular schedule. Minho gets to see his cats from his childhood, eat home cooked food, and spend some much needed time with his family.

Of course, their parents are keen on hearing about their newfound fame. Their mother is exceedingly worried about their safety, especially with the tour coming up, and Minho and Felix have to spend around ten minutes trying to convince her that they’ll be in good hands.

Despite how concerned they are, Minho and Felix’s parents are ultimately supportive of the path their sons had chosen. Minho knows he’s lucky to have that and he’ll always be grateful for it.

That night, the two brothers sleep in their shared childhood room. Their beds sit on opposite walls, just the way it had been when they were kids.

Minho lies in his bed, wide awake as he stares up into the pitch black of the room. He tries to listen for Felix’s typical rhythmic breaths when he sleeps, but his ears are met with silence.

He frowns. Opens his mouth to speak, then thinks twice and closes it. 

He thinks again and does it anyway.

“Yongbokkie,” He murmurs. “You awake?”

There’s a beat of silence. Then he hears Felix’s soft voice. “Yeah.”

Minho shifts onto his side to try to look at his brother. “What are you thinking about?”

Felix sighs, mirroring Minho as he turns on his side and props up his head with his hand. “I feel like this tour might be a huge breakthrough.”

Minho hums. “Because of how well the album has been doing?”

“Mhm.” Minho sees Felix bite his fingernails in the darkness. “I think our lives are never going to be the same when it finishes. Will we have to move from where we live right now? Deal with more paparazzi?” He chuckles to himself. “What kind of money will we be making?”

Minho laughs, resting his chin on his forearms. “It won’t be anything we can’t handle. We have each other, right? We’ll always have each other. And the rest of the band is always gonna be there to support us. If we can’t work something out, we have lots of help all around us.”

Felix gives Minho a small smile. “I guess you’re right.”

They sit in comfortable silence for a minute, listening to the quiet sounds of the night outside their window. Minho is teleported back to when he was ten and Felix was eight. The two of them used to have riveting conversations into the late hours of the night, keeping their voices hushed so as not to get caught. He remembers ducking under the covers and trying to hold in his giggles when they heard footsteps outside their door.

“Are you excited?” Felix’s voice breaks him from his daydream.

Minho tilts his head at his brother. “For the tour?”

Felix nods.

“Yeah,” Minho breathes. “Of course I am. We’re going to be seeing so many new places, having so many new experiences. All while performing our original music.” He shakes his head. “It’s hard to believe it’s real.”

Felix huffs out a breath of laughter. “You can say that again.” 

He pauses, and Minho knows there’s more on his brother’s mind.

“Alright, what’s up?” He asks.

“It’s just…” Felix gulps. “Are you and Jisung gonna be okay?”

Minho’s breath catches in his throat. “What do you mean?” He mutters.

“Come on, Minho,” Felix scoffs. “I have never seen you this head over heels over someone. Did you think I – as your brother – wasn’t going to notice?”

Minho opens his mouth to deny it, but realizes there isn’t really a point in doing that. He wishes there was a way to get out of this conversation, but knows there’s no escape when it comes to Felix.

“Okay, fine, whatever,” He grumbles. “What does that have to do with the tour?”

Felix sighs. “We’re going to be spending a lot of time with each other. As in, all hours of the day. Unless you say something, those feelings are going to come into play at some point. I don’t want you getting yourself hurt over something dumb, Minho.”

Minho glares at his brother. “I’m not going to get hurt. I’ve been fine so far, haven’t I?”

Felix gives him a pointed look, or at least his best attempt at one in the dark. “I think you should talk to him beforehand. Just in case.”

“That would make things worse!” Minho insists. “Why would I make a perfectly good friendship awkward right before we’re about to be around each other nearly 24/7?”

“Minho, you–” Felix groans, cutting himself off. “I love you. I love you so much. But you are absolutely impossible.”

Then he’s turning towards the wall, leaving Minho to wonder what his point had been in the first place.

—

Minho doesn’t see Jisung for the entire week leading up to the first night of the tour. He knows it’s nothing personal; the semester is ending, and Jisung has finals to take. Minho knows the poor boy is probably killing himself while preparing for the tour. But it’s still strange. It had been months since Minho had gone more than three days without seeing Jisung.

That thought occurs to him one night while he’s in the middle of making himself dinner. He nearly makes a second portion for Jisung before he remembers that the vocalist wouldn’t be over that night. He freezes mid-pour; he’d never realized how bad this situation had gotten.

He takes the liberty of marching into his room to scream into a pillow.

After a long week of rehearsing by himself, the first night of the tour finally arrives. The first location is a mere thirty minute drive from their university town, so the members are supposed to meet at the venue at three PM.

Minho wakes up early that morning. He packs his bags and gets himself ready as soon as he’s out of bed so that he’s sure he won’t be late.

He finishes by twelve o’clock and suddenly has nothing to do for the next hour and a half. As soon as he’s left alone with his thoughts, he remembers the thousands of people he’ll be performing for. He imagines himself messing up in the middle of a song, or falling over on stage and making a fool of himself.

In order to distract himself, he decides to run through a few songs before he has to leave. He puts his phone on Do Not Disturb, plugs in his guitar, and starts rehearsing.

He ends up going through the entire set. When he isn’t happy with certain parts, he practices them over and over until they’re perfect. He becomes fixated on making sure his performance will be perfect by the time the concert rolls around.

He finishes his second runthrough of the set and sighs, somewhat content with the progress he’d made. He picks up his phone to check how much time he has before he needs to leave, and–

The clock reads 4:07 PM.

“Fuck!” He hisses, staring at nearly twenty missed calls from his bandmates.

He calls a cab, hurriedly packing his guitar away as he pulls his things together. The thirty minutes to the venue feel like hours as he watches the world outside the car window fly by, anxiously chewing his thumbnail.

He arrives at the venue at 4:45. A group of staff members immediately grab him and rush him to his styling room. They inform him of what he’s missed, including sound check and rehearsals. They tell him that Jisung had stepped up to stand in for Minho during sound check. He curses under his breath as he’s pushed down the halls.

He’s shoved into a room, a label with his name posted on the door. A group of makeup artists and hair stylists are already waiting for him. They shove him into a chair and immediately get started.

Of course, he sits through more scolding. “Even Hyunjin made it here on time!” One of them reprimands.

After he gives his profuse apologies, they ease up. At the end of the day, he has a great relationship with his stylists, and they usually don’t stay mad at him for very long.

When Minho is finally all dolled up in his makeup and fancy clothes, he makes his way over to a full length mirror. He has glitter in the inner corners of his eyes, and his lips are faintly tinted pink. His long bangs have been carefully pushed out of his face, his forehead on display. The stylists have put him in tight black jeans and a white button-up with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

He grins at his reflection. He looks good. 

At 6:30, he makes his way to the green room.

He opens the door, peering his head in. He’s immediately bombarded by the shouting voices of his bandmates.

“Lee Minho!”

“Where the fuck were you? Almost two hours late?”

“God, Minho!” Felix rushes over, nearly tackling Minho to the ground with the force of his hug. “I was so worried, you weren’t responding to calls or texts, I thought–”

Minho chuckles into Felix’s ear, gently patting his brother’s back. “Thanks, Yongbokkie. Sorry to worry you.”

When Felix releases him, he finally gets a chance to take a good look at his bandmates. As he takes in their appearances, he realizes the stylists had gone all out for the tour. Hyunjin and Felix both have elaborate outfits and makeup styles, allowing them to stand out from the back of the stage. Changbin’s look is more subtle, but he looks great nonetheless.

Then his gaze falls on Jisung. He nearly chokes on his own spit.

Jisung’s hair is blue.

It isn’t a bright blue. It’s dark, like the midnight sky. His navy colored bangs fall into his eyes, which Minho now notices are smudged with stage makeup and glitter.

His outfit is all black. He has a sheer crop top that exposes a sliver of his stomach, paired with black jeans and a leather jacket. Silver earrings dangle and glimmer from his earlobes.

Minho feels like he might die on the spot. Jisung looks amazing.

Jisung smiles nervously, running a hand through his freshly dyed hair. “What do you think?”

Minho swallows, trying not to let his mouth turn to cotton. “When did you do that?” He blurts, worried he might say something he regrets if he answers the question. “Is this what you decided to change for the tour?”

“Yeah, it is. I dyed it a few days ago.” Jisung raises his palms, doing jazz hands. “Surprise!”

Despite his state of shock, Minho still finds it in himself to stride forward and smack Jisung’s bicep. “Why didn’t you show me?”

Jisung rolls his eyes. “I literally just said I wanted it to be a surprise. You didn’t answer my question, by the way.”

This kid will be the death of Minho.

Minho stares at him for a moment longer, reminding himself not to ogle too much as he gnaws on his bottom lip. “You look…” He bites back the words that threaten to spill from his lips. Stunning. Jaw-dropping. Quite literally out of this world.  

“Good,” He settles on. “It looks really nice, Jisung.”

The corners of Jisung’s mouth twitch into a smile. “Thanks.”

“Okay, Jisung is hot, we get it!” Hyunjin drawls from where he stands beside Felix. “Can you two love birds get your asses over here so we can talk about this show that’s in, oh, an hour and a half?”

Minho scowls at Hyunjin, making his way over. He glances at Jisung walking beside him, not missing the blush that tints his cheeks. It isn’t from the makeup.

—

The show starts in five minutes, and Minho can’t move.

The band stands backstage, instruments in hand while listening to the shouts of the thousands of people in the crowd that are there just for them. Minho isn’t sure why he’s suddenly on edge; he hadn’t been anxious about a show since the first time Murk had performed as a band.

But now, he stands frozen on the spot with a clammy death grip around the neck of his guitar. Maybe it’s the sheer number of people there to see them, or the fact that it’s the first night of their first nation-wide tour. He remembers the visions he’d had, images of him making a fool of himself as he performs flashing in his mind as he desperately tries to calm down. He bites his fingernails hard.

“Hey.” A soft voice breaks him from his convictions. He turns to see Jisung standing by his side.

His mouth twitches as he tries to neutralize his face. “What’s up?”

“You’re nervous, aren’t you?” Jisung murmurs. “That’s a first.”

Minho tries to wave him away, ignoring the way his heart flips in his chest. “I’m not nervous. I don’t get nervous.”

Jisung purses his lips. He almost looks like he’s holding back a smile.

“Hey.” He suddenly turns his entire body 90 degrees, grabbing Minho’s shoulders. “Do you remember what you told me before my first performance with Murk?” 

Minho furrows his eyebrows. Surprisingly, he does. Very vividly. “Yeah.”

Jisung grins. He runs a hand along Minho’s left shoulder and rests it on the back of Minho’s neck. His touch is electric, sending shockwaves down Minho’s spine. Minho suppresses the urge to shiver.

(He can’t stop himself from leaning into it, though.)

“You’re Lee Fucking Minho, right?” Jisung cracks a fond smile, referencing Minho’s own words from months ago. Jisung peeks around a corner in an attempt to see the mass of people, then turns back to Minho with a glimmer in his irises. “But I’m pretty sure the crowd already knows that.”

When Jisung keeps his hand on Minho’s neck, Minho feels his anxiety melting away. A hot rush of serenity flows from Jisung’s palm and seeps into Minho’s skin, coursing through his arms and his back, all the way into the rest of his body.

Minho stares at Jisung and hopes that his eyes convey the message he’s trying to get across.

The next thing he knows, he’s taking his position on stage. Jisung stays backstage, set to come on midway through the first song so that the rest of the band can have their moment to shine. Minho already misses his proximity.

The lights on stage are blacked out, the crowd screaming in anticipation. Minho thinks he might have gone deaf if he hadn’t had his in-ear monitors in.

Before the music begins, he looks out at the crowd. Thousands of lights from people’s phones gleam back at him like stars in a night sky. He can see the faces of the people at the barricade and watches them jump excitedly as they try to see the band in the dark. He smiles fondly at their fans’ antics and wonders how he’d ever been nervous in the first place.

Then the lights are flashing in time with Hyunjin counting them off, and they begin playing.

They open with Beware. It’s an intense song, perfect for electrifying the crowd. Felix has the opening line, then Changbin jumps into rapping the first verse, growling into his microphone as he strums his bass. When he finishes the verse, Jisung saunters on stage and begins singing the pre-chorus. The crowd goes completely batshit at the sight of the lead vocalist.

Minho isn’t much better. The air is knocked from his lungs when Jisung strolls into the center of the stage. Minho watches the way he sings, marveling at the mannerisms he’d spotted over the past year of watching Jisung perform. When it comes to more aggressive songs like Beware, Jisung has a tendency to snarl as he sings. He flashes his canines, his eyebrows knitted together as he sends his dark gaze out into the crowd. Minho reminds himself not to stare too hard, forcing himself to interact with their fans.

At the end of the song, Jisung raises his arms above his head to greet the sea of people. His shirt rides up, exposing his stomach, and Minho tears his eyes away before he becomes too insane to continue the show.

He isn’t sure if he’ll ever get used to this.

—

The rest of the show feels like a dream. The five of them feed off of their fans’ energy, pushing themselves farther than they ever had before. The crowd is more responsive than Minho had ever seen, every single person in the venue screaming their lyrics back at them. Minho is surprised when the fans even know their pre-Jisung songs, including Booster and Insomnia.

When it comes time to play Sunshine, Minho feels his heart pounding against his ribs. He stares at the microphone on the stand in front of him throughout the entire first verse, trying not to let his nerves get the best of him. This would be his first time singing live, and it’s in front of thousands of fans. What if he forgets the lyrics? What if he doesn’t live up to expectations?

But as Jisung finishes the last line of the first verse, he passes behind Minho. Minho feels his hand brush against the back of his neck, briefly squeezing the tense muscles before pulling away and walking into Minho’s field of vision.

Strangely enough, that had been enough. Minho feels completely calm as he closes his eyes. The fans scream when his voice echoes through the venue. Minho feels Jisung’s gaze boring into him as he sings. He isn’t sure what to think of that.

By the time the concert finishes, Minho is drunk on endorphins. He staggers off the stage, his skin and hair drenched with sweat. They all stumble back to the green room, where they each collapse into a chair or a couch and chug their water bottles.

After a few minutes, Felix breaks the exhausted silence. “So… how do you guys feel?” He rasps.

This launches an animated conversation between the five of them, excitedly talking about their favorite songs to perform, funny moments on or off stage, and the surreality of it all. 

Minho can’t believe that for the next three months, this will be his life; performing for thousands of people with his best friends.

Just before they’re about to retire for the night, there’s a knock at the door. Their manager pokes his head in. 

“There’s someone here to see you,” He says, addressing the entire band. They murmur their acknowledgements. 

Their manager opens the door all the way, and in walks Seungmin with a giant smile on his face.

Minho, Changbin, Hyunjin, and Felix all jump to their feet, running to their former lead vocalist and attacking him with a group hug.

“What are you doing here?” Hyunjin breathes when they finally release him from their embrace.

Seungmin’s smile grows wider. “Obviously, I wanted to see you live. You guys have been everywhere for the past year.” He playfully punches each of their arms in succession. “How are you dicks gonna go get signed with a major music label and get super famous right after I leave?”

Changbin beams, rubbing Seungmin’s arm. “We missed you, you know.”

Seungmin sighs and purses his lips. “I know. I’m sorry I haven’t been able to come to more shows or be around… at all, honestly. I’ve been so focused on school, and…” He trails off, glancing at his feet. “I was embarrassed for a while after I left. I didn’t want to face you all after what I’d done.”

Felix frowns, taking Seungmin’s hands into his own. “Seungminnie, stop. You did what was best for you. At the end of the day, that’s what matters most. And anyway,” He grins. “We never would’ve met Jisung if things didn’t play out the way they did.”

Seungmin’s eyebrows shoot up. “Where is he? Jisung, I mean.” He peers around his friends’ shoulders, trying to spot Jisung.

“Oh!” Felix sputters, moving out of Seungmin’s way. Jisung sits behind them, watching the interaction with keen eyes.

“Seungmin, meet Jisung, our amazing lead vocalist and songwriter,” Changbin says, pulling Jisung to his feet and dragging him over to the rest of the group.

As Minho watches Jisung, he sees a flash of concealed worry in his eyes. He realizes that Jisung must be nervous.

“Hi,” Jisung utters, smiling anxiously. “I’ve heard a lot about you. You’re an amazing vocalist. I hope I’ve lived up to your legacy.”

Minho’s heart soars in his chest. Of course that was what Jisung had been nervous about; being good enough for the former lead vocalist. 

Minho thinks Jisung might be too sweet for his own good.

Seungmin laughs, clapping Jisung’s shoulder. “You’ve done more than live up to it; you’ve exceeded it.” He grins. “These four nerds are lucky to have you, Han Jisung.”

When Minho turns to scowl at Seungmin, he misses the way Jisung’s gaze flickers to him for half a second. 

“I think I’m lucky to have them,” Jisung murmurs.

The six of them fall into steady conversation. As Jisung and Seungmin talk more, they get along better than Minho had expected. They end up exchanging numbers. Jisung later tells Minho that he’d been relieved when Seungmin had suggested it and hopes that he’ll be able to text Seungmin when he needs help approaching performing Murk’s older songs.

As Minho watches his friends chat amongst themselves, he feels his heart swell in his chest. How had he gotten lucky enough to be able to live a life like this?

—

The weeks move along as planned. Jisung and Felix both decide to take the semester off in favor of the tour, agreeing that they’ll graduate over the summer. With the extra time on their hands, they’re able to put all their energy into the music.

They perform the same set each show, yet every night has a different kind of energy. Whether it’s the venue, the crowd, or the band themselves, there’s something unique about every city. While Minho doesn’t get nervous before shows anymore, the high he gets from strumming those first few chords of Beware never goes away.

As the weeks tick by, Minho notices a change in his relationship with Jisung. The two of them had already been hanging out nearly every day. Now, they’re practically inseparable.

Minho finds that he and Jisung are glued to each other’s sides at every chance they get. During sound checks, Jisung takes any opportunity he can to touch Minho in some way. He’ll grab Minho’s arm while they’re standing around, or cling onto him with minute long hugs. Sometimes he’ll stand in front of Minho and lean back against the older boy, allowing Minho to wrap his arms around him and hold up his body weight. When the band waits for their concerts to start in the green room, Jisung always finds a way to cuddle up to the guitarist. On the days they’re allowed to explore whatever city they’re in, Minho drags Jisung (and only Jisung) along with him on his sightseeing trips. 

But off stage isn’t the only place where these changes take place. 

Jisung interacts with all the members while he performs. Maybe it’s wishful thinking, but Minho can’t help but think that Jisung is interacting with him so much more than usual, more than he does with the other members. He makes prolonged eye contact with Minho during parts of certain songs, or runs his hand along the expanse of Minho’s shoulders as he ambles past the guitarist. He shoves his face right into Minho’s personal space at times, close enough that if Minho stumbled forward the slightest bit they’d faceplant into each other.

A few times, Minho tries winking back at Jisung when he feels the vocalist staring for too long. This makes Jisung’s cheeks bloom red, smiling shyly at Minho as he turns away to focus his energy somewhere else.

Minho rolls his eyes every time. Why dish it out if you can’t take it?

To make matters worse, Jisung only gets braver and touchier with each concert that passes.

At one particular show, they’re in the middle of performing Hello Stranger. Jisung is as energetic as usual, the crowd jumping in tandem with him as he allows the music to carry him around the stage.

As they approach the chorus, Jisung spins around to face Minho with a wild and mischievous gleam in his eyes. He strides over, and Minho feels the warning bells begin to go off in his head.

Before he has time to realize what’s going on, Jisung is grabbing a fistful of Minho’s hair and pulling him in. He presses his forehead into the guitarist’s, grinning as he serenades his microphone.

Minho’s brain comes to a halt. His hands play his guitar on their own accord as his senses are filled with Jisung. Minho would be convinced that the sound of Jisung’s voice was a dream if it wasn’t for Jisung’s breath ghosting against his lips. All he sees, smells, hears, or feels is Jisung.

The only thing he seems to be able to process are the words that spill from Jisung’s lips:

“Hello Stranger, I keep being drawn to you

Growing closer to you without thinking

I"m more and more curious as time passes

Why am I like this?

Who the hell are you to do this to me?”

Minho feels dizzy as the lyrics wash over him. He holds Jisung’s intense eye contact, biting down on his lip hard so that he doesn’t accidentally pant into Jisung’s microphone.

Jisung’s fingers massage Minho’s scalp, causing Minho to close his eyes and lean his head back into the pressure. But the feeling is gone just as quickly as it arrived, Jisung’s hand slipping from Minho’s hair as he shifts out of Minho’s vicinity. When Minho opens his eyes, Jisung is already halfway across the stage.

Minho pointedly ignores his bandmates’ stares for the rest of the show. He faintly wonders if he’d imagined the whole thing.

—

That same night, they stay in a hotel. They each get their own room with a queen-sized bed, a TV on the wall across from it. Minho is grateful for the much needed time to himself, taking the night to watch whatever was on cable and relax. He falls asleep at around one in the morning.

An hour or two later he’s woken by soft knocking at his door.

He blinks himself awake, groggily sitting up to squint in the darkness. He considers ignoring the knocking in favor of going back to sleep, but his morals get the best of him as he tumbles out of bed to drag his feet across the room. Stupid morals.

When he opens the door, there stands Jisung. His lips are bitten raw, and the expression on his face seems a bit panicked.

Minho feels himself instantly snap awake. “What’s wrong?”

Jisung weakly gestures down the hall towards his room. “I couldn’t sleep. Feeling really anxious. I just… could I stay with you tonight?”

Minho doesn’t think twice before he opens his door for Jisung to come in. “Yeah. Of course.”

Jisung throws Minho a grateful look as he makes his way in. “Thank you. I’m sorry, I just didn’t know who else to go to and I–”

“Jisung.” Minho shuts the door behind them, following closely behind the younger boy. “It’s seriously no problem. Please don’t worry.”

Jisung pauses next to the bed. When Minho notices his hesitancy, he climbs in himself. He leans against the headboard and extends an arm, motioning for Jisung to follow suit.

Jisung’s lips twitch into a small smile. He clambers next to Minho, leaning into his side.

Minho wraps his arm around Jisung’s shoulders, rubbing circles into Jisung’s skin with his thumb. “What’s wrong?” He murmurs.

Jisung sighs, rubbing his eyes groggily. “Having another bad music night.”

Minho frowns. “What does that mean?”

“Sometimes – and this only happens at night – I get into a headspace that I was in a few years ago. I convince myself that I don’t deserve to have music in my life, that I should just get a business degree and a 9-5 job like every other normal person.” Jisung chews on his lip. “Since I joined the band, it hasn’t been happening as often. But when it does happen, it’s considerably worse than before. Since, you know… there’s a lot more pressure now.”

Minho feels a pang in his chest. “Is that why you took a break from music for a while? Because you were feeling that way?”

Jisung nods. “Yeah.” His voice is unsteady, barely a whisper.

Minho pauses, unsure whether he should ask his next question. “Why did you start feeling like that?”

“Are you sure you want to get into this?” Jisung looks at Minho with wide eyes. “It’s late, I probably woke you. I don’t want to be a downer. We can just sleep.”

Minho shakes his head. “If talking about it would make you feel better, then I want to listen.”

Jisung exhales shakily. “Okay. Um, well…” He looks away from Minho, staring at his hands. “When I was sixteen, my mom passed away.”

Minho’s heart drops. He hears his own breath escaping him. “Oh, Jisung.”

“It’s okay, I’m okay. At least, I am now. But it was hard for a while. She was the one who introduced me to music. She was my inspiration for years, the person I looked up to the most.” He clicks his tongue. “It was too hard for me to make songs anymore, so I stopped. I stopped singing, I stopped playing guitar, I stopped writing. Music was my passion, my everything, and just like that it was too painful to think about. Sometimes I couldn’t even listen to music; I’d literally just sit in silence for hours on end.”

He pauses. Minho notices he’d been picking at his cuticles, so he gently reaches down to stop him, taking a hold of Jisung’s fingers. That brings a rueful smile to Jisung’s face as he reciprocates by squeezing Minho’s knuckles.

“It was weird. I had this voice in the back of my head telling me that I’d be leaving her behind if I kept making music. That it was wrong for me to continue something that she introduced to me without her. That I’d be a shell of a person if it wasn’t for her. If she’s gone, then I should just let myself be a shell of a person, right?”

Minho wants to sob, but he says nothing, allowing Jisung to finish.

“For two years, I couldn’t bring myself back to music. You know, people used to always tell me that ‘time heals all wounds.’ I hated it when people said that, but…” He chuckles humorlessly. “It was true. Over those two years, the ache while thinking about her didn’t burn as much. I was able to remember the good moments without crying. I started listening to music again.”

“Then when I applied to university, something clicked. I was looking through the lists of majors, and all of them just sounded so… dull. I couldn’t imagine myself doing anything but music. I realized that my mom would’ve wanted me to keep making music. I wouldn’t be leaving her behind; I’d be keeping a part of her with me.” He bites his lip. “So, I started again. And now I’m here, and everything is amazing. But some nights get bad.”

He goes silent, staring at the blank TV across from them.

Minho wraps his other arm around Jisung. “Well, you were absolutely right when you applied for university. You do deserve to be making music. It’s like you said; it’s what your mom would want. That voice in your head isn’t your mom, is it? Why should you listen to advice from something that is so clearly the opposite of the person you look up to the most?”

He sits up to look Jisung in the eye. “You deserve every second that you’ve had making and performing these beautiful songs. You’re the kindest, smartest, most talented person I’ve ever met. Some amazing art wouldn’t exist without you. The fans are lucky to have you. Murk is lucky to have you. Fuck, I’m so incredibly lucky to have you.” He cuts himself off before he goes too far, getting caught up in the heat of the moment. “Please believe me when I say that. I know anxiety sucks, but I will be here for you whenever it gets bad. Always. Even if you just need someone to be around.”

Jisung gawks at Minho, his expression unreadable.

Just before Minho can begin to worry that he’d gone too far, Jisung tackles him with a hug. They fall into the mattress, Jisung burying his face into Minho’s shoulder.

“Thank you,” He whispers. Minho feels tears seeping through his t-shirt, but he doesn’t care. “Really. Thank you.”

Minho feels like he doesn’t need to say anything else, so he doesn’t. Instead, he opts to wind his arms around Jisung’s torso.

They fall asleep like that, with Jisung’s cheek tucked into the crook of Minho’s neck.

—

For the following days, they don’t spend a minute without each other. It’s as if that night had flipped a switch in their brains, making it impossible for one of them to be without the other. They go through their daily schedules together, have meals together, and even have their designated alone time together. 

This applies to sleeping, as well. They spend the next few nights sharing each other’s beds, whether that’s in the tour bus or hotel rooms. They never really talk about anything, simply lying in bed and scrolling on their phones for a while before turning out the lights and falling asleep side by side. They don’t hold each other like they had that first night, but that doesn’t bother either of them.

Minho knows that it isn’t due to Jisung’s anxiety anymore. But who is he to complain?

—

They arrive at the next city, immediately launching into preparations for the show. Before they go into styling, their manager informs them that this particular show would be an important one; it was one of the biggest venues of the tour, so they need to make sure they put on a good show.

Minho sits on the couch in the green room, scrolling through videos as he listens to his bandmates warming up around him. He isn’t really paying attention to the videos; he just wants something to do with his hands that isn’t playing guitar for once.

He feels a weight plop down on the couch, and he turns his head to see Jisung settling in next to him. He lays an arm along the back of the couch behind Minho, resting his jaw on Minho’s shoulder.

Minho turns back to his phone screen. “Done warming up?”

Jisung nods, his chin digging into Minho’s shoulder blade as he does so. Minho doesn’t say anything about it.

“How do you feel?” Jisung asks.

Minho doesn’t move an inch. “About?”

“The huge crowd tonight!” Jisung exclaims. “What do you mean, ‘about?’”

Minho shrugs. “I feel fine. It’ll be like every other show.”

Jisung scoffs. “You’re still a robot, you know that?”

“And you love me for it.”

They sit in comfortable silence for a moment before Jisung speaks again.

“You know, I went to a concert here when I was a teenager.”

Minho raises his eyebrows, looking at Jisung through the corner of his eye. “No shit?”

Jisung shakes his head. “No shit. One of the craziest concerts I’ve ever been to, to this day. It was so much fun.” He sighs. “It’s insane that now, I’m going to be on that stage. Makes it a bit more intimidating, I guess. I want to put on the best show that I can.”

Minho huffs out a laugh, leaning further back into the couch to lay his head on top of Jisung’s arm. “If that’s what you’re concerned about, you shouldn’t be worried. You can do that easily. Just do whatever you do at our other shows. People seem to love that.”

Something changes in Jisung’s expression. He turns to Minho with a devious gleam in his eye. Minho doesn’t like the look of it. “Yeah? Alright, then.”

Minho narrows his eyes at the vocalist, but doesn’t say anything. He turns his attention back to his phone.

The two of them watch the videos on Minho’s phone for a while, Jisung peering over Minho’s shoulder. This kind of thing is normal for them; they don’t need to speak, all they need is to be in each other’s presence.

Minho scrolls, and a video pops up that nearly makes him jump out of his seat. It’s of him and Jisung at their most recent concert performing Hello Stranger. More specifically… that part of the performance.

Minho watches with flushed ears as the Jisung on his screen presses his forehead into Minho’s. It’s strange to watch it from an outside perspective. It makes Minho realize just how wrecked he’d looked in the moment.

He mentally curses his phone’s algorithm for doing this to him.

Jisung snorts from beside him, startling Minho out of his stupor. 

Minho scowls at him. “What?”

“Nothing.” Jisung points at Minho’s screen. “That.”

“What about that?” Minho grumbles.

“The fans really love it when we do that stuff, don’t they?” Jisung presses himself closer into Minho’s side. “Maybe we should do some more of it tonight. It’ll probably go viral again.”

Minho feels his heart drop to his stomach, something stilling in his chest. His gaze snaps back to the video playing on his phone. He knew Jisung had pulled that stunt on stage for the sake of fanservice, but some tiny part of him had hoped that maybe, just maybe, there had been an underlying motive. Hearing Jisung confirm that it had solely been to appease the fans crushes something inside of him.

He internally reprimands himself for getting his hopes up. What had he expected?

“Sure,” He mumbles, quickly scrolling away from the video to try to prevent the moment from being burned into his mind.

Fuck, who is he kidding? It already was a long time ago.

—

Minho can’t seem to get over what Jisung had said to him. The idea of Jisung toying with his emotions like that leaves a sour taste in his mouth. As they make their way on stage, Felix’s words from all those weeks ago echo in his head.

I don’t want you getting yourself hurt over something dumb, Minho.

He decides that he won’t allow that to happen.

He spends the night avoiding eye contact with Jisung, channeling all of his vigor into his own performance and interacting with the fans more. He plays the songs aggressively, staring out at the crowd as they scream enthusiastically in response.

He gets a few strange looks from his bandmates, which he ignores. He has no time to worry about what they think. He needs to focus on himself for the night.

A few times, Jisung tries to interact with him. He tries to catch Minho’s eye, but Minho pointedly turns away each time. 

Halfway through the show, Jisung ends up at Minho’s side. He extends an arm, trying to touch Minho’s bicep. Minho discreetly dodges his hand, backing out of Jisung’s space to where he can’t be reached.

Finally, he looks up to make eye contact with Jisung. He knows his face is probably giving away exactly what he’s thinking as he fixes the vocalist with a cold stare.

Jisung furrows his eyebrows, his eyes filling with concern. Even so, he respects Minho’s wishes, turning on his heel to focus his energy somewhere else.

Jisung doesn’t come near Minho for the rest of the concert.

As soon as they finish their last song, Minho beelines backstage. He walks quickly, praying his feet will carry him fast enough to get away from the rest of the band.

As soon as he bangs open the door that leads to the hallway, he hears footsteps running behind him. “Minho, wait!”

Fuck.

He ignores Jisung’s voice, his eyes trained on the door to his dressing room. Just a few more paces and he’ll escape, get out of this nightmare, have some peace and quiet–

A hand grabs his forearm, spinning him around. He’s met head on with Jisung’s perturbed gaze.

“What’s going on?” Jisung demands.

“Nothing. I’m fine.” Minho tries to pry his arm out of Jisung’s grip to no avail. “Can you let go?”

“Not until you tell me what’s wrong.”

“I told you, nothing is wrong, I just want some time to myself.” He tugs again, but Jisung is surprisingly strong when he wants to be.

“Bullshit. You wouldn’t get close to me, let alone look at me. I tried to be with you on stage, and you wouldn’t even give me the time of day. Nobody just does that out of the blue for no reason–”

“Maybe because I don’t want you doing shit like that!” Minho snaps. Jisung freezes, and Minho takes the opportunity to snatch his arm back.

“What do you mean?” Jisung all but whispers.

Minho rubs his temples. He feels a migraine coming on. “You do too much sometimes. It’s overwhelming to be that close to someone with thousands of people watching, you know that? I’d love it if you learned to let me have my personal space. That’s it. So just,” He begins to back away. “Let me be.”

Jisung blinks. “But you–”

“No, Jisung. Leave me alone, please.” With that, he turns on his heel, stalking into his dressing room and slamming the door behind him.

He leans against the door and sinks to the floor, trying to wipe the image of hurt in Jisung’s eyes out of his mind.

—

They spend the night apart for the first time in days. It comes as no surprise that Minho barely sleeps.

Due to his exhaustion, he isn’t feeling much better the next day. He pulls on a pair of sunglasses to hide the dark circles under his eyes when he leaves his room for checkout.

He keeps his eyes downcast as he boards the bus. As he makes his way to a secluded seat, he feels Jisung’s gaze practically burning holes into him.

When he sits down, Felix glances back at him from where he’s sitting next to Hyunjin. He asks a silent question with his eyes: Do you want to talk?

Minho shakes his head, gesturing for Felix to stay where he is. His brother purses his lips and nods before turning back to his conversation with Hyunjin.

The bus ride feels hours longer than it actually is. Minho sits in the back, watching his bandmates. His music blasts in his headphones at a volume that probably isn’t good for his eardrums. He knows that he should be acting like everything is alright, that he should pretend he isn’t trying to get over his feelings for the lead vocalist of his band. But he’s too fatigued to face the things he’d said the night before.

They’re nearly at their destination, Minho staring out of the window beside him when he feels something nudge his arm.

He pulls out his headphones and turns to see that Changbin has sat down next to him with an annoyed look on his face.

“What did you do?” He deadpans.

Minho glares at Changbin, then breaks eye contact to stare straight ahead. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Changbin grabs the top of Minho’s head, forcefully turning it so Minho has to face him. “Don’t play dumb.”

Minho swats his hand away. “Dude!”

“We’re going to have this conversation, and you’re going to look me in the eye,” Changbin dictates, crossing his arms over his chest. “Explain yourself. Why is Jisung sulking like an abandoned puppy while you’re over here being all dark and brooding?”

Minho hardens his stare and glares harder, hoping it scares Changbin away. He should have known better, because Changbin just raises an eyebrow and cocks his head.

Minho rolls his eyes. “We got into an argument.”

“Clearly. What about?”

“He just–” Minho groans, burying his face into his hands. “He keeps flirting with me on stage. I don’t like it.”

“You seemed perfectly fine with it 48 hours ago. Are you sure?”

“Yep.”

Changbin holds his stare. “Minho, can you not lie to me?”

“I’m not lying!” Minho snaps, still making sure to keep his voice low. “I hate it when he does that, especially when it doesn’t fucking mean anything!”

There’s a beat of silence. “Ah,” Changbin hums. “So it’s about that.”

Minho draws one of his knees into his chest, resting his forehead on it. “About what?” He grumbles, even though he knows exactly what Changbin is implying.

Changbin sighs. “You have to talk to him about this at some point.”

“No, I don’t.”

“Minho.”

“I don’t!” Minho exclaims. “Not when it’s more likely to ruin the band than not. I have to put the group first, not my… feelings.” He cringes at the word.

Changbin gapes at him. “God, you’re daft.”

Minho scowls at the bassist. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Just–” Changbin rubs his eyes with the heels of his palms. “Talk to him. Tell him how you feel. Fix your fuck up. We’ll be more screwed if you don’t.”

He stands up. “Look, I know you want to run away from your emotions. It’s what you always do. But you can’t do that this time. It’s not going to work.”

Minho looks up at his friend. He isn’t sure what to say, so he doesn’t say anything.

Finally, Changbin breaks and gives Minho a small, exasperated smile. He ruffles Minho’s hair. “You idiot. You’re gonna be alright, you know?”

Minho feels his lips twitch. He looks down at his feet, trying to mask the onslaught of emotions that had just hit him. “Whatever.”

Changbin gives him a look before he goes back to his seat. Minho puts back in his headphones, trying to drown out his thoughts.

—

They check into the hotel, each of them receiving their keys in succession. Minho grabs his from their manager, proceeding to trudge his way through the halls towards the elevator room.

When he turns the corner, he sees Changbin, Hyunjin, and Felix going into an elevator. He isn’t close enough to make it in time, so he watches as the doors close behind them. He could use the time to himself, so he’s okay with it.

That is, until Jisung rounds the corner.

Minho wonders when his suffering will finally be put to an end.

As soon as Jisung catches sight of Minho, his eyebrows knit together. He shakes his head to himself, training his eyes on the ceiling. He looks tired, even more tired than Minho feels.

The two of them wait for the elevator in silence. Minho stares at his shoes, and Changbin’s advice comes to mind. Would now be a bad time to say something?

The elevator dings, and the two of them get in. Jisung refuses to look at Minho. Of course, Minho can’t say he’s any better, looking anywhere but the vocalist.

He squeezes his eyes shut. He might as well get it over with. Is there such a thing as a “good time” to confess to someone, anyway?

“Hey,” He blurts. 

Jisung’s head snaps up to look at the guitarist. “Hm?”

“I, uh…” Minho clears his throat awkwardly. “Wanted to talk to you about something.”

Jisung blinks. Minho’s eyes must be tricking him, because he swears he sees a flash of hope in Jisung’s gaze. “Okay.”

“I…” It occurs to him how insane he’s about to sound. What the hell is he supposed to say? Hey, just to let you know, I think I’m a little bit in love with you. Surprise!

Fuck, he can’t do it.

He shifts on his feet. “I’m sorry I ruined the show last night. I know how much it meant to you.”

For reasons unknown to Minho, Jisung’s face falls. He clicks his tongue, turning away from Minho again. “Who says you ruined it? I performed well, with or without you.”

Minho stares at Jisung. The kid is impossible. He forces himself to look away, focusing instead on the numbers on the elevator’s display screen as he indignantly grinds his teeth.

Just when he thinks they’re about to spend the rest of the elevator ride in uncomfortable silence, Jisung pointedly coughs. 

“Thank you, though,” He mutters. “And I’m sorry for acting the way I did on stage. I wouldn’t have done that if I knew it made you uncomfortable.”

Minho wants to scream. He wants to tell Jisung how wrong he is, that it doesn’t make him uncomfortable; quite the opposite, in fact. But when he opens his mouth to speak, his vocal chords fail him. The words refuse to transfer from his brain to his tongue.

Then they’re arriving at their floor, the chimes dinging as the doors open. Jisung spares Minho a melancholy smile before he walks away, leaving Minho to stare at his retreating back.

—

The five of them go out for dinner that night. Minho doesn’t particularly want to go, but Changbin practically drags him out of his room by his hair.

“Socialization will do you some good,” He proclaims as he does so.

It goes… fine. The food is great, and Minho finally has a conversation with his bandmates. It’s the first real meal he’d had that day, so he eats a bit too quickly, finishing before the rest of the group.

Since their conversation in the elevator, the tension between Minho and Jisung seems to have eased. They’re able to look each other in the eye and speak to each other like normal friends would.

But as Minho watches Jisung from across the table, he notices that the spark in their dynamic has disappeared. Their interactions are awkward and forced, as if they’re trying to convince themselves that everything is okay.

But at least they’re civil, right?

—

They spend the next day at a distance from each other. They’re not ignoring each other, but they don’t go out of their way to find one another. They don’t play around like they usually would during sound check. They don’t even sit together in the green room to scroll on their phones together.

It’s strange, having Jisung so close yet so far. Minho feels like he’s yearning for something that’s within arm’s reach.

That is, if he stretches a little harder.

Minho thinks about that as they file backstage, instruments in hand. He hears the crowd cheering their name in a rhythmic chant: “Murk! Murk! Murk!” 

He isn’t sure how he’s going to get through the show tonight. He’s already in a horrible mood, and to make matters worse, Jisung will be making sure there’s a good bit of space between them at all times. And this time, Minho doesn’t have any fiery bitterness to get him through it.

As they wait, Minho realizes Jisung has ended up standing right next to him. He glances at the vocalist. His palms sweat at the sight of Jisung’s side profile; the slope of his nose, his dark eyelashes, the way his fringe falls perfectly into his eyes. 

He clears his throat. “So, uh.” 

Like they had in the elevator, Jisung’s eyes snap to Minho.

Minho swallows. “How are you feeling?”

“About?”

Minho suppresses the urge to let out a noise of frustration. “You know… the concert.”

Jisung stares at him for a second. Two seconds. Just as Minho is about to shy away from his gaze, Jisung throws his hands up, his eyes going wild with irritation.

“Can you please tell me what is going on with you?” He groans.

Minho gapes at him. “Huh?”

“Oh my god,” Jisung grumbles. Suddenly, he’s grabbing Minho’s arm and dragging him to a secluded corner where they can’t be seen or heard.

“What are you doing?” Minho whispers. “We have to go on in, like, one minute!”

Jisung glares at him. “I know this isn’t about what you said the other night.”

Minho goes rigid. His gaze darts between Jisung’s eyes, trying to read his expression. “What?”

“If it was,” Jisung continues. “We wouldn’t have an issue right now. We wouldn’t be dancing around each other, and you wouldn’t be acting like an awkward mess around me. So just admit it and tell me why you’re actually upset.”

Minho rubs his eyes, already dreading where the conversation is going. “I’m not upset.”

“Yeah, alright,” Jisung laughs sarcastically. “I must have crossed some kind of line you’re not telling me about. Is it because of what I told you about my mom? Did I get too personal? If that was too much, I won’t–”

“No.” Minho chokes. “God, it isn’t that. It would never be that.”

“Then what’s wrong?” Jisung demands. “Because, fuck, Minho, you’re breaking my heart. I miss you. Can you please explain? Why are you acting like this?

And Minho has officially had enough.

“Because I fucking like you, Jisung!” He hisses. “I like you more than I’ve ever liked anyone before, and the idea of screwing things up with you scares the shit out of me. I want to be around you every second of the day. I think you’re talented and ambitious and kind and you have a beautiful soul. It can get a little tough for me when you act like that on stage, because it’s difficult for me to go longer than two seconds without wanting to kiss you.” He sucks in a breath, trying not to let himself get winded. “So I think I have a good reason to be ‘acting like this’.”

He anxiously stares at Jisung, waiting for a reaction. The younger boy gawks at him, not saying a word.

He’s about to start backtracking when their manager’s voice echoes through the space between them. “Ten seconds until you’re on! Minho, where the fuck are you?”

He takes one last craving look at Jisung before he races out to the stage, the darkness enveloping him.

Through the entirety of the first verse of Beware, Minho only thinks about what he’d just done. What’s going to happen now that he’s come clean? Would Jisung ever look at him the same way again? Will the band be alright? The questions flit through his head, and he isn’t sure how long he’ll be able to stay on stage if these thoughts continue at the same rate.

But then the pre-chorus begins. When Minho looks up to watch Jisung come on, he freezes.

As Jisung meanders on stage, he’s only looking at Minho.

Minho meets the vocalist’s dark gaze, trying not to let his expression give himself away to the crowd. Jisung’s voice is like a lasso, wrapping around Minho and tethering him in place, unable to escape. As Jisung grows closer, Minho realizes the vocalist is grinning ear to ear.

He stops a few inches before Minho. Sings the last line of the pre-chorus, all while maintaining eye contact. Then he’s gone in an instant, dancing across the stage to the rhythm of the chorus.

As Minho watches Jisung move, hope timidly blossoms in his chest.

The show seems to go on for an eternity. Minho spends the minutes observing Jisung, trying to work out how he’s feeling. He tries to decipher the reasons why Jisung is looking at Minho during certain points of the set, or why his eyes are shining in a way that Minho has never seen before.

Like the show before, Jisung doesn’t touch Minho once. But somehow, it’s different. His lingering looks combined with the lack of physical contact drives Minho crazier than he’d ever felt with Jisung all over him.

It isn’t until they perform Volcano that Minho gets the answer he’d been looking for. Jisung is singing the pre-chorus, the crowd screaming along with him. Minho watches him cradle the microphone in his hands, singing into it with his eyes closed and his eyebrows furrowed. Hearing Jisung perform the song live hits just as hard as it had the very first time. In fact, Minho thinks his heart might be growing weaker with each performance, his pulse racing whenever Felix plays the first notes of the song.

Then Jisung’s eyes flutter open and he glances over his shoulder towards the band. His gaze pierces into Minho as he sings the next line:

“Even if I go back hundreds of times, my choice is always you.”

At that moment, Minho knows exactly how Jisung feels.

When they finish their last song before the encore, Jisung stays behind to wave at the crowd. As Minho walks off the stage, he brushes behind Jisung. He extends his fingers, allowing them to drag across the small of Jisung’s back as he passes by.

Minho knows he isn’t dreaming when he feels Jisung shiver under his touch.

When Minho makes it backstage, he slings his guitar onto his back. He turns around to watch Jisung jog towards him as the rest of the band walks away to get some water before they go back on. The lights on the stage go dark, and Minho vaguely sees Jisung’s silhouette growing closer.

When Jisung finally reaches Minho, the guitarist feels a hand grasping his own. He’s tugged away from the hoards of people backstage, away from the rest of Murk.

Once they’re alone, Jisung’s hands reach up to cup Minho’s face, long fingers delicately placed on either side of his jaw. The dim lights illuminate one side of Jisung’s face, and Minho can’t help but stare at his lips, at the way his round eyes sparkle with anticipation.

“You idiot,” Jisung whispers.

Then he’s kissing Minho full force.

Minho gasps into it, pressing back almost instantaneously. Jisung’s lips are salty with sweat, but Minho can’t imagine his are much better. He feels Jisung move against him desperately, and his hands move on their own accord, taking a firm hold of Jisung’s waist. He can’t think. He can’t breathe.

But then Jisung is pulling away, panting against Minho’s lips as he presses their foreheads together. “God,” He breathes. “What do you think I’ve been doing for the past year? Why would I be flirting with you on stage if I wasn’t well and truly crazy about you?” He tugs at Minho’s hair, pulling him back so he can look him in the eye. “Why would I be all over you at every chance that I get?”

Minho can’t stand it anymore. He crashes their lips together again.

When Jisung responds by making a small noise against his lips, Minho’s mind goes into overdrive. He allows his hands to trail under Jisung’s sheer shirt, his nails grazing at Jisung’s skin. His grip on Jisung tightens, pulling him impossibly closer. One of Jisung’s arms snakes around Minho’s neck as Minho grabs his chin, tilting his head to deepen the kiss. 

When Jisung’s tongue licks at the seam of his lips, Minho realizes he wants to stay here for hours. The world drowns out. Nothing else matters. The roaring chants of the crowd don’t matter. The rest of the tour doesn’t matter. Minho can’t form a coherent thought other than Jisung’s name on an endless loop in his mind. All he wants to do is make up for all of their lost time, never letting Jisung out of his grasp again.

When they pull away to breathe, Minho doesn’t let Jisung get too far, holding him as close as he can. “Fuck, Jisung.”

Jisung giggles, briefly pecking Minho’s lips. “We have to go back out for the encore.” 

“No, we don’t,” Minho mumbles as he chases Jisung’s lips, his fingers clamping down on the soft skin of Jisung’s waist. “They can go a night without us.”

To Minho’s dismay, Jisung untangles himself from Minho. He grins at the guitarist, walking backwards in the direction they’d come from. “Maybe without you,” He teases. “Not without me.”

Minho barks out incredulous laughter as Jisung spins around to race back towards the stage. He feels completely and utterly dizzy as he follows Jisung, pulled in by him like a magnet.

—

Minho wakes up the next morning in Jisung’s hotel room.

Sunlight streams in through the window, and Minho blearily realizes they must have forgotten to close the blinds last night. As he blinks himself awake, he becomes blissfully aware of the warm pair of arms tightly wrapped around his waist.

He looks down to see Jisung’s head pressed into his chest, his cheek soft against Minho’s skin. Minho pulls back the slightest bit to get a good look at his face.

When he moves out of the way, Jisung’s face becomes painted by the golden light. His eyelashes cast shadows on his cheeks, and his lips are parted ever so slightly. His hair is tangled, blue locks spread out haphazardly over the white sheets.

Minho feels himself smiling fondly at the boy in his arms. He reaches down to card his fingers through Jisung’s hair, pushing his bangs out of his eyes.

Jisung stirs. Minho watches as he sucks in a slow breath, slowly opening his eyes to squint at Minho. When he registers Minho’s face, he smiles softly.

“Hi,” He whispers, his voice raspy with sleep.

Minho feels his heart leap in his chest. He can’t believe he isn’t dreaming. “Hey. Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.”

Jisung shakes his head, stretching his arms above his head. “I want to be awake if you are.”

Minho rolls his eyes, flicking the space between Jisung’s eyebrows. “Corny.”

Jisung grins, leaning up to peck Minho on the lips. “Only for you.”

Minho tucks himself further under the covers, enveloping Jisung’s torso with his arms. “Do you think we caused issues disappearing last night? The others were planning on going to a bar after the concert, weren’t they?”

Jisung reaches over to the nightstand to retrieve his phone. “Let’s find out.”

Sure enough, when Jisung opens his phone, his lockscreen is filled with individual texts from their bandmates.

[Felix]
where did you and minho go i thought we were going out

[Hyunjin]
you horny bastards omg.

[Changbin]
can you two be any less obvious???? the fans are onto you

Minho hums at Changbin’s message, intrigued. Jisung opens up Twitter, and to nobody’s surprise, a video of the two of them performing Volcano is circulating within the fanbase.

Minho snorts, ignoring the butterflies in his stomach as he watches the moment all over again. He clicks his tongue playfully. “I can’t believe that song isn’t about me.”

Jisung laughs, putting his phone back down. “Don’t worry, I’ve written quite a few songs about you.”

Minho starts. He lifts himself up on his elbows to hover over Jisung. “Really?”

Jisung stares up at him disbelievingly. “I"ve liked you from the second I laid eyes on you, Minho. Of course I have.”

Minho blinks. “You… what?”

Jisung scoffs. “Why did you think I was getting so nervous around you at first?”

Minho’s pulse stutters. Jisung has liked him for that long? How had they wasted so much time?

He folds his arms on top of Jisung’s chest, resting his chin on top of them. “Any on the album?”

“Well, Close is about you. If that couldn’t be any more obvious.” He pauses. “Hello Stranger is based on that drama, but…” He trails off, his cheeks going red. He covers his face with his hands. “In the parts I wrote, I came up with a lot of the lyrics thinking of you.”

Minho feels his heart soar in his chest. He grabs Jisung’s hands, prying them away from his face. “You sap,” He whispers, littering Jisung’s face with kisses on his cheeks, his forehead, his eyelids, and finally, his lips.

Jisung giggles, tenderly swatting Minho away. “Are you surprised?” He mumbles. “Of course I’m gonna write songs about you. I’ve been pining over you for ages.”

Minho grins, drawing back to run a hand down the side of Jisung’s face. Jisung’s eyes flutter closed as he leans into Minho’s touch like a cat being petted. He turns his head to press a gentle kiss into Minho’s palm.

Minho bites his lip, trying not to smile too wide. It doesn’t really work, a beam spreading on his face anyway.

“Just can’t believe this is real,” He murmurs.

—

Everything goes by much more smoothly with Minho and Jisung’s problems worked out. Changbin and Hyunjin shoot the two of them knowing looks when they come down to check out of the hotel together. Felix isn’t as discrete, a blatant, congratulatory smile on his face when he catches sight of them.

They sit together on the bus again. They’re back in their own little world, pressed up against each other as they allow themselves to fall into their usual banter.

The band has another show two nights later. They’re performing in a big city, so the venue is one of the largest they’ll have for the entire tour. Minho isn’t sure why, but he’s nervous again. Maybe it’s because it’ll be the first show since he and Jisung had started this… thing between them. Would things be different? Would he have to hide how he’s really feeling?

Of course, he should’ve known he had nothing to worry about. The concert plays out exactly the same way any of their other ones would have. All of the members get a chance in the spotlight, ebbing off of one another as they make it through song after song. It’s easy. Nothing has changed. Murk is still the same band that they’d been a few days ago.

Around halfway through the set, they finish playing Ex. As the audience cheers and applauds, Minho watches Jisung turn to the rest of the band to hold up a finger, asking them to wait a moment before they move on to the next song.

“Do you guys mind if we pause for a minute?” He asks the crowd, pulling out his in-ear monitors. The fans whoop their confirmations that yes, that’s okay.

Jisung looks back at the band, grinning excitedly. Minho furrows his eyebrows in a silent question, to which Jisung simply responds with a thumbs up.

He turns back to the crowd. “This next song is something special.” His smooth voice booms through the speakers, and the giant room goes silent to listen to him. 

“When I first wrote this song it… didn’t mean much. It was just a feeling I wished for. A feeling I’d desperately wanted to experience for my entire life. After I finished writing it, I came to terms with the fact that I shouldn’t be seeking that special something out; I needed to let it come to me.”

He pulls the microphone away from his face for a moment, visibly sighing. “Even so, when I performed it, I was yearning. Yearning for a lot of things. It was a sad song for me, to be honest.”

The crowd screams in despair at the idea of Jisung being sad. Minho tries not to laugh.

Jisung grins, holding up a hand to calm them down. “That was over a year ago. But now…” He trails off, biting his lip. “It"s beautiful to me. When I sing it now, it means something completely different to me. Something truly special.”

He doesn’t clarify past that, but he looks over his shoulder at Minho. His faded blue hair glows in the stage lights like a halo, his eyes sparkling with elation.

Minho’s jaw drops. He stares at Jisung. He knows what Jisung had been implying; while the song hadn’t originally been written for Minho, that’s who it’s about now. When Jisung performs that song, he’s thinking of Minho. Only Minho.

He feels his throat closing up, overwhelmed by emotions he didn’t even know were possible for him to feel.

“This is Volcano,” Jisung shouts. “A song about newfound meaning.”

Minho can tell from the way the crowd roars that they know exactly what Jisung means.