Chapter Text
Why have you come to my house?
Will you please go away?
– Why, Janet Suhh
The scene takes place in a deserted classroom, the last of the afternoon light filtering in through the billowing curtain, blown softly by the cool summer breeze, casting the room in a warm, golden tone. Well, almost deserted, save for two students sitting in the back-most row of the class.
One student—the one sitting near the open window—is resting his head on the desk, using his arms as a pillow. The other student is sitting two desks away, his gaze directed toward the sleeping student. A ghost of a smile brushes his lips. The scene then fades to black.
JUNE 2026 — JEONGIN
“Hey, Jeongin!”
Jeongin swivels his chair around. Choi PD is calling, gesturing for him to come. When Jeongin reaches his desk, he finds a familiar clip playing on Choi PD’s monitor screen. Uh oh, he internally panics, this can’t be anything good.
“Look at this!” Choi PD gestures enthusiastically to the screen. It shows two high school students chasing each other, trying to spray the other with water from a hose.
Nostalgia hits Jeongin like a truck. Playing on the screen are two people he hasn’t seen in a long time.
“You once mentioned that you went to the same high school as the two students from Kang PD's youth documentary. Do you keep in contact with them? What are they doing now?"
"Ah," Jeongin scratches his head, "one hyung relocated to Australia a few years ago—he's working as a freelancer there—but the other hyung still lives in the neighbourhood. He's managing a restaurant. It was featured once in a restaurant review program, you might've seen it in passing, PD-nim.
"Hmm, yes," Choi PD studies the clip, taking notes of one of the hyung's appearances, "I think I've watched the program."
He then claps his hands together, “I’ve pitched the idea before. How about a remake? We can show what and how much their lives have changed in the last ten years. Viewers like that kind of genuine content nowadays.”
“What do you think? Would they agree to be in another documentary?"
Haha.
Jeongin would rather work on a nature documentary for an unforeseen amount of time than try to put those two in the same room again. But, looking at Choi PD's expectant gaze, he knows trying to dissuade him from the notion will be futile. Part of what makes Choi PD such a good producer is how stubborn he is, how he never lets go of an idea once it burrows inside his mind. And being his team leader, the fate of Jeongin's future career lies in Choi PD's hands. If Jeongin wants that promotion he's been aiming for a year now, he needs to deliver some results.
"I'll try asking them, PD-nim."
He looks at the clip one last time, stopping particularly at the bright smile and laughter decorating both of the high school students' faces, before returning to his desk. It’s been five long years. Some of the wounds should have healed by now.
Maybe it's time for his hyungs to meet again.
“I’ll do it.”
Jeongin’s jaw almost drops to the floor. He tried contacting his younger hyung first, hoping for a chance to pitch the idea and negotiate before his hyung hangs up on him, but he never expected such a quick answer.
At least not from Seungmin.
“Seriously?! You understand that the shoot would be done in Korea, right?”
“Yes, don’t worry, I’ll make the arrangements. But—,” A pause, the Seungmin on his laptop screen furrows his brows, teeth gnawing at his bottom lip, "—as long as he agrees to do it as well.”
Jeongin grimaces. That might be the tricky part.
“I’ll convince hyung.”
“No.”
Jeongin already expects the rejection, but he can't help but wince.
“But hyung—”
“I agreed to do it once. I don’t remember signing up for a second one, Iyen-ah.”
“But the reaction to the first one was so good, clips from the documentary even went viral recently—”
“Then they should just continue watching that one.”
“—It’d be good publicity for you, and besides—”
“I’m hanging up now—”
“—Seungmin-hyung had said yes to the project!”
A sharp inhale from the phone speaker. Then, “…Seungmin did?”
Jeongin's lips curl into a wry smile.
Ah, should have led with that from the beginning.
Minho’s voice remains calm and steady, betraying no other emotions, but Jeongin has known this hyung long enough to recognize the tone he uses when he tries to stay composed.
“Yes, hyung. He said he’s in, as long as hyung agrees to do it as well.”
The other end of the line goes silent for a few heartbeats before Minho sighs and says, “I’ll think about it.”
JULY 2026 – MINHO
The words echo in Minho's ears long after the phone call, ping-ponging inside his skull and causing tension behind his eyes. They follow him to his workplace, to the dance studio, and back to the stillness of his home. He massages his nose bridge, trying to alleviate some of the tension away.
Seungmin had said yes to the project.
A dull throb in his chest. Like opening a bandage to an old wound, only to find that it never healed in the first place, still sore and festering with pus.
The premise of the documentary was simple: showing the different lives of first-year and third-year high school students. The beginning and the final year of a short-lived youth. They were chosen and paired together solely by chance, although Minho suspected their respective extracurricular activities—dance for him, baseball for Seungmin—might've played a role.
His homeroom teacher called him to the teacher’s office one day and asked if he would like to be part of a documentary. He was about to say that he was not interested—on top of his suneung preparation he also had his part-time job—but then the teacher mentioned that they would be compensated a good amount. Minho said yes immediately.
Kang PD was a young producer, passionate and ambitious about his first big project. Minho liked working with him. He would buy them ice cream after the end of every shoot and ask if they had any difficulties with the subjects at school.
His scene partner was the only downside of the whole circumstances.
There’s cats and dogs, and there’s oil and water. Then, there's him and Kim Seungmin.
From the moment Kang PD set up the camera for their first interview, Minho knew they wouldn’t get along. Everything about him, from his answers to his mannerism, either irked or baffled Minho. They were the exact polar opposites.
Seungmin seemed to share the sentiment. He made it his mission to annoy Minho at every turn. Hitting his arm then running away while cackling, stealing the last pudding in the school canteen, ‘accidentally’ bumping onto his desk corner so that Minho’s pen fell down and rolled away.
Minho retaliated by staring at him without blinking while Seungmin was studying, hiding his pencil case, and spraying water from the hose at him during cleaning duty. Anything that could put a knot between Seungmin’s brows or cause him to shake his head in exasperation. Simple, petty pranks that filled Minho with glee.
The entire month they were filming the documentary must have added a lot of gray hairs on their teachers’ heads and deepened their wrinkles. The filming also more often than not had to be paused because Kang PD was busy mediating their fights.
Minho couldn't count how many times they were told to kneel in the corner of the teacher’s office, holding up their hands above their heads as a punishment. Even then, they couldn't stop bickering. Seungmin would purposefully elbow him on the side and Minho would hit his stomach in return. They only stopped when the teachers yelled at them to behave or forced them to sit in separate corners.
Despite it all, it was the most blinding summer of his youth, the last time he ever felt true freedom, before it all went downhill.
He blames Seungmin still.
Kim Seungmin arrives on his doorstep one blinding morning in July.
Minho blinks slowly. He almost doesn't recognize him.
Gone is the boy with braces and floppy hair, who used to smile so wide until his eyes crescented into twin moons. His dark hair is now cropped short, baby fat gone. He’s wearing a blue dress shirt over a white t-shirt, tucked neatly into a pair of blue pants. A placid smile sits on his lips, but his eyes shine with mirth, as if he knows a secret Minho doesn’t.
“Hello, hyung,” greets him. "Will you invite me in anytime soon, or are we just going to keep staring at each other?"
“Still a menace, I see,” Minho grumbles. At least that part hasn’t changed. He steps aside to let Seungmin in.
Seungmin takes off his shoes and places them tidily on the shoe rack. Another part that hasn't changed. A practiced move, as if he's been here many times before. Minho's heart clenches.
Every time Seungmin moves, it’s like Minho can see afterimages of his younger self. The twenty-seven-year-old Kim Seungmin standing in front of him superimposed with the image of seventeen-year-old Kim Seungmin, and then twenty-two-year-old Kim Seungmin. A ripple expanding on water's surface.
He wonders what Seungmin sees when looking at him. Does he see the same apparition of Minho’s past selves?
Soonie comes and noses curiously at Seungmin's socked ankle, and Seungmin bends down to scratch the back of his neck.
"Hello to you too, Doongie," he looks up, "This is Doongie, right?"
Something thick sticks uncomfortably in Minho's throat, "No, this is Soonie."
"Oh." Seungmin's face falls, but not for long. He gives Soonie an extra pat, "Hello to you then, Soonie."
Seungmin used to be able to differentiate them through their meows alone. But that was five years ago—for them, almost a lifetime ago.
"C'mon," he scoops Soonie up and leads Seungmin to the living room. Seungmin follows, his gaze quietly sweeping through the hallway, the furniture and artwork decorating his living space. Minho tries not to squirm.
He got the place two years ago, an old hanok refurbished into a modern home. Hyunjin designed the interior, creating a comfortable place for him and his dongsaengs to live in.
Minho likes the wide, open space, the natural light coming from the windows, the sliding door opening to the deck and the courtyard, where you can sit and see the stars at night—if you're particularly lucky, what's with Seoul's high level of light pollution these days. It reminds Minho of his grandparent's house in the countryside, a place he deeply misses after years living in his cramped, 9 pyeong apartment.
Minho can't help but feel self-conscious, letting Seungmin into his personal space again and getting glimpses of his life. He starts to regret the decision to meet Seungmin here, in his own turf, although the option to retreat to the safety of his home was the reason why he agreed in the first place.
"You've got a nice place, hyung."
Minho tries for a sardonic smile, "Must look like an improvement from my old, cramped apartment, huh."
Seungmin frowns like he doesn't quite agree but doesn't comment further.
Minho gestures for Seungmin to sit while he lets Soonie join his brothers on the cat tree. He then takes out cold water from the fridge. Summer heat in Seoul is no joke. He can't have his guest be dehydrated on his sofa.
"You don't drink coffee anymore," Seungmin notes, his eyes not leaving one empty spot on the kitchen counter, where a coffee machine would have stood once upon a time.
Of course, that would be the first thing Seungmin noticed.
"No, I stopped. Too much caffeine is not good for your health."
Seungmin hums, "Is that so."
He passes Seungmin the cold water bottle. Seungmin has chosen his spot on the couch. Minho sits at the other end of the sofa, keeping a wide berth of distance between them. He voices out the question that has been on his mind since Jeongin called him.
“Why did you agree to the documentary?”
“I want to see you, hyung.” The same placid smile stays on his lips, as if his words didn't just shake the foundation of Minho's resolve. "Want to see how you're doing."
Coming from anyone else, given their history, it would sound like a taunt. But Seungmin has never been anything but sincere, sometimes to a fault. The genuine care in his eyes burns a brand on Minho's skin.
“How about you, Minho-hyung? Why did you agree?”
Minho crosses his arms, "I'm not agreeing to anything yet. Did Innie not tell you?"
"But you invited me here."
"I did not. You kept bothering Innie for weeks until he gave you my address. You're an unwanted guest here, Kim Seungmin."
To that Seungmin grins. His first genuine grin since he arrived.
"How else would I get to talk to you then, hyung? You don't answer your phone, and I can't contact you through any of your socials."
Minho snorts, "So you resorted to emotionally blackmailing Innie."
"I'm helping him cast people for his documentary. He should be thankful instead."
If he wants to convince me to do the documentary, then he shouldn't have sent you.
Because if Minho was still unsure before, seeing Kim Seungmin again has strengthened his resolve.
"I'm not doing the documentary."
Seungmin frowns, "Hyung—”
"No, don't start. I'm swamped with work right now, and I'm sure you are too. Don't even try to deny it," he adds when Seungmin opens his mouth again, "Besides, who would even be watching our documentary? It might be fun to watch when we were teenagers but not now when we're boring, working adults."
"That's not what the production company thinks. You read through Innie's proposal, right, hyung?"
He did. It was a good proposal. The plan is to shoot a 12 episode documentary over the course of one month, following them in their personal and professional lives. It will be a straightforward shoot with a minimal crew and an agreement to disturb them as little as possible.
As compensation, Jeongin even offered the opportunity to promote his restaurant in the documentary, as they would be filming him in his workplace as well, and Minho never says no to free endorsement.
The problem however lies with his cast mate, the man sitting across from him.
"Innie's gotten very good at his job," Minho agrees, "But, no. That's my final answer."
Seungmin stares at him for a long time. Then, in a small voice, he asks, “Did you hate it that much, hyung, the idea of filming another documentary with me?”
Minho imperceptibly flinches. He steels his heart.
“You experienced it firsthand, how badly it went the first time. I don’t understand why you want to do it again.”
Hurt flashes across Seungmin's face. It mirrors the twenty-two-year-old Seungmin from his memory, the one who had once stared Minho down with the same kind of pain in his eyes.
“Was that all it was to you, hyung? A bad experience?”
“How else would you describe it?”
They both know he’s being deliberately cruel now.
"Alright, then, I guess I'm done here," Seungmin gets up. He offers one last look at Minho, "I'll be in Seoul for a couple more weeks for work, hyung, in case you change your mind."
A very unlikely possibility. Minho escorts him to the front door.
"Where are you staying right now?" Seungmin's family no longer lives in Seoul, as far as he knows. They moved near his sister's place in Suwon after her marriage.
Seungmin stares at him, as if saying, why do you care, but he still answers.
"I'm staying at a hotel for the time being. At least, until Changbin-hyung flies back to Seoul, then I'll go stay at his place. You remember Changbin-hyung, right? We sort of work together now."
Minho does remember Seo Changbin. Business major a year below him, loud and popular, built like a brick. Seungmin used to follow him around to student gatherings and drinking events like a puppy.
He heard through the grapevine that Changbin also continued his study in Australia, but he didn't expect Seungmin to still keep in touch with him, much less of them working together.
"Huh. He also flies home?"
"Yeah. He didn't get a lot of chances to visit his family, so might as well come home while I'm also here for work."
Seungmin finishes putting his shoes on. He pets Soonie who has followed them from the living room, giving him one last scratch.
"It was nice to see you again, hyung. Take care. I'll see you around," Seungmin says last before stepping out into Seoul's blinding summer day.
Leaving Minho standing in his hallway, his heart heavy, the weight of the last five years finally bearing down on him. Suddenly, he can't be here anymore, feeling too tight in his own skin. He grabs his jacket along with his wallet and key, and goes out to find some reprieve.
Jisung is balancing a few plates of bar snacks on his hands, bringing them to a customer's table, when Minho enters Quokka Bar.
"Welcome! How many peo—Oh, Minho-hyung!"
Jisung's eyes widen in surprise, almost losing his grip on the plates.
"Hello, Sungie." It's not a rare occurrence to find Minho visiting Quokka Bar after work. But it does usually take a lot of whining and the promise of discount or free snacks for him to come willingly on his day off. He can see the gears turning inside Jisung's mind.
"Excuse me!" A customer waving to get Jisung's attention buys Minho some time before Jisung can pry out the truth from him.
"Yes, sonnim, a moment please," Jisung yells out before addressing Minho shortly, "Go sit, hyung, I'll get back to you in a bit."
Minho nods and lets Jisung return to his work. He takes his usual spot at the bar counter, lazily tracing patterns on the polished wood. Jazz music plays from the record player, the singer’s croon adding to the bar’s cozy ambience. There aren’t a lot of customers around, but that’s to be expected on a Monday evening.
Jisung opened Quokka Bar after his SoundCloud rapper and music producer career didn't take off for some time. He’s doing quite well for himself now, running the bar in the evenings and continuing to work on his music career during the day. Last, he was working on a song for a new boy group from an independent record label.
Jisung slides him a plate of dried squid and cold beer, taking his place behind the bar counter. Minho mumbles his thanks and takes a sip, appreciating the cold wash of beer down his throat.
"So what brings you here so early, hyung?" Jisung starts taking out beer glasses from the dishwasher and wiping them dry. "I've been asking you to come over and try my new menu since forever, but you always say you're busy—"
"Kim Seungmin's back."
Jisung stops whatever he is about to say next and stares at Minho, mouth gaping open. He puts down the beer glass and carefully places his hand on Minho's shoulder, "Hyung, are you…okay?"
Jisung remains the only one who knows the extent of his fuck-up. One of the few people who picked up the shattered pieces of Minho five years ago and helped glue them back together.
Minho takes another sip, "Yeah. We met and all. As you see, I'm still in one piece."
Jisung seems unconvinced. He squeezes Minho's shoulder, offering the slightest bit of comfort, before returning to wipe his beer glasses.
"So is he back for good? Or is he just here for work?"
"I guess he'll be here for a while." At Jisung's confused tilt, Minho sighs, "Remember Yang Jeongin?"
"Jeonginnie? Our famous PD?" Jisung's brows furrow. "What does Innie have to do with Seungmin's return?"
"Innie wants to make a documentary."
"A documentary," Jisung repeats carefully, "Wait—Like the one you and Seungminnie did in high school?"
"Mhmm. A continuation of the previous documentary."
Jisung seems to finally connect all the dots.
"And he wants you and… Seungmin to be in the new documentary?"
Minho hums. Jisung stares at him like he just confirmed that he's an alien who has taken over Minho's body.
"So let me get this straight: Your hoobae from high school wants you to shoot another documentary with the guy you famously didn't get along with, and you just agree? Not to mention he's—whoa, hyung, did you lose your mind? What does Innie have on you until you said yes?"
"I didn't say yes. Rejected the offer."
Jisung blinks. He seems surprised at Minho's unusual lack of self-sabotage, "Oh, alright."
Minho downs his beer, "Can I get another glass, Sungie?"
Jisung's gaze turns scrutinizing. He still fills up Minho's glass so Minho decides to ignore it.
"You didn't say yes. But, you were considering it."
Yes, until the moment I met him and realized I still couldn't be in the same room as him.
"It was a good proposal."
Jisung snorts, "I'm sure it was, hyung. Pity, it could be like Transit Love. Maybe you guys could go viral again. But I guess you've made up your mind."
Minho watches as the condensation gathers on the glass surface and slowly falls down like rain droplets, pooling on the bar counter.
"It’s for the best."
Minho clocks in the next day for work, feeling more exhausted than he normally is on early Tuesday shift.
He didn’t even drink that much the day before. Jisung stopped him before he got drunk, complaining that he had no time to take care of drunk Minho and sent him home after making sure he drank a lot of water.
Minho nods absently as the kitchen and waiting staff greet him in passing. It's going to be a busy day at Shinmenu. He needs to check the produce delivery, catalogue the ingredients, and confirm the reservations for this week.
There's also the matter with the soft opening of Sonagi, their new branch restaurant. He still has to confirm some details with the contractor, as well as meeting with Hyunjin to check the interior design. Chef Kim also mentioned that he has an array of new dishes to put in the menu and asked kindly if Minho could possibly taste test them this afternoon.
Minho can feel a headache coming.
"Minho!" Bang Chan's voice booms across the hallway. Minho turns and waits for his boss to catch up with him.
"Chan-hyung," Minho nods in greeting, "What got you so excited this morning?"
Chan grabs his shoulders and slowly steers him in a familiar direction, "Walk together with me to my office, Minho-yah."
The so-called office is located next to Minho's but unlike Minho, Chan rarely inhabits the space, preferring to hold office in the main building, where he has meetings with the shareholders and potential investors and other stuff Minho's not privy to. As a result, the furniture in the office space more often than not just sits collecting dust (only metaphorically—Kyehoon always makes sure to dust it clean every morning).
Minho can't help but feel apprehensive. He wonders what Chan wants to talk about that's so important it can't be said in the hallway. If it’s related to Sonagi, a problem so close to the soft opening would make Minho send someone to an early grave.
"What is it, hyung?" he asks after Chan closes his office door and gestures for Minho to make himself comfortable on the sofa.
Chan smiles, his eyes crinkling, "I have great news. Sky-nim's manager finally gave us the green light."
That soothes Minho's nerves. He sits up straighter, “So they agree to do the promotional shoot for Sonagi?”
Sky. S-k-y. Spelled with English alphabets. The new, up-and-coming photographer based in Sydney, Australia. Very few know what they look like—as they refuse to do a video interview—only that they’re Korean or have some Korean ties. People who have worked with them described them as a professional with a remarkable attention to details, which is directly reflected in their work.
Minho has gone through their portfolio once, as part of his research. Beautiful, playing around with natural light and interesting angles, with landscape and architecture photography being the main focus of their work. But they have also done some promotional shoots for brand-name products and restaurants before.
That’s why Chan is interested in hiring them for Sonagi’s soft opening. He wants them to do a promotional shoot of Sonagi’s interior and menu.
Chan was lucky enough to know someone who is acquainted with Sky’s manager and could connect them. However, distance and Sky’s busy schedule have made the collaboration difficult so far.
Minho has suggested finding another good but less booked photographer—surely Hyunjin has a photographer friend or two who can take on the project—but Chan remains persistent. Something about Sky’s works just perfectly matches the image of Sonagi he has in his mind.
Chan staples his fingers together, “We don’t know for sure. I set up a meeting with them and their manager next Monday. Can you make it? It’d be best if they meet directly with you, as you’re in charge of Sonagi’s opening.”
Minho mentally goes through his schedule for next week. He needs to check again with Minju but as far as he remembers he should be free in the afternoon.
“Set up the meeting at Sonagi. Then they can see the restaurant in person and let us know what they think.”
“Alright, I’ll let them know.”
“Thank you, hyung.”
When Chan doesn’t immediately dismiss him and let him return to his work, Minho knows the conversation is not yet over. Now he understands why Chan wanted them to talk in his office. It has nothing to do with Sky and Sonagi. Chan is staging an intervention.
Curse his boss slash hyung and his motherhen tendency.
Chan is still smiling but his eyes are full of worry. Minho dreads whatever’s going to come out of Chan’s mouth next.
“Are you doing fine, Minho-yah?” He begins in a careful tone. “You don’t seem to have enough rest after your day off.”
“Speak for yourself, hyung. You look as if you haven’t slept for weeks.”
Chan chuckles and awkwardly scratches his head, “You know how it is with openings. I had a lot of meetings to attend last week.”
Minho arches his eyebrow.
Chan raises his hands in defeat, “Okay, fair, let's not play ‘you should take better care of yourself’ game. We’ll just run around in circles. My point is, you have Jungwoo and Minju. Their job is to help you. You should delegate more of your work to them, Minho-yah.”
Hearing this from the most workaholic person he’s ever known makes Minho wonder if he’s indeed been working too hard. Does he look rundown? Maybe he should have put on some concealer before he left home this morning to hide his eye bags.
“I’ll go on a holiday after the soft opening, hyung,” he assures Chan. “And I still go to gym every week, so don’t worry, I’m not neglecting my health.”
Chan smiles, “That’s good to hear.”
“Can I go now? This restaurant won’t run by itself.”
Chan sighs and gestures for him to leave, “Go. Make sure the kitchen doesn’t burn in your absence.”
Minho grins, ”I wouldn’t be very sure. Chef Kim said he considered putting cherry jubilee on the tasting menu.”
Minho doesn’t know if Seungmin remembers—he never asked before—but their first meeting was not in the empty classroom where Kang PD set up the interview. At least not for Minho.
The first time he saw Kim Seungmin’s name, it was scribbled on the library borrowing card above Minho’s name. Kim Seungmin is a pretty common name, one he would not notice if not for the fact that it happened multiple times. Minho didn’t even read that many books but written always on the card of the books he read or was about to borrow was ‘Grade One Class Two Kim Seungmin’.
The couple of times he opened a book and didn’t find Seungmin’s name there, Minho felt as if he just won a competition. It felt great not being beaten to the punch by this random underclassman for once. But not long after returning the book, when he checked the card again out of curiosity, ‘Kim Seungmin’ would be written there in neat handwriting.
It could be a coincidence. They must have had similar taste in books or something. Or this little hoobae has been stalking and copying him, no other explanation.
One day, he asked the librarian if she could point out his copycat hoobae. The suspect turned out to be a floppy-haired boy with too long bangs which covered his eyes. Minho found him sitting on the floor between the bookshelves near a large window, his nose buried in a book.
In true Lee Minho fashion, he confronted his junior.
“Are you Grade One Class Four Kim Seungmin?”
The boy looked up, curiosity shining in his big brown eyes, “Depends. Who's asking?”
“Grade Three Class Seven Lee Minho. Are you part of the literature club?”
Kim Seungmin furrowed his brow, “No, I'm in the baseball club.”
Minho nodded. That made sense. Kim Seungmin was a scrawny little kid—it’s hard to imagine him playing any sports—but that might help in a sport like baseball, where you needed to be light and swift on your feet.
“Are you done with the interrogation, sunbaenim? I want to finish this book before practice starts.”
Unlike most first-year students, he didn’t seem scared at the prospect of being confronted by a senior. His tone was polite, yet there was a hint of defiance in the way he stared at Minho, something which Minho couldn’t help but begrudgingly respect.
Minho turned his gaze to the book cover. Korean edition of Dream Drops and Star Flowers by Sōta Ishiki. With annoyance, Minho realized it was one of the books he put on his to-be-read list. This scrawny underclassman somehow managed to get ahead of him again.
Minho leaned in and said in his most threatening voice, “Stop reading the same book as me.”
Then, he left, without waiting for Seungmin’s reaction, thinking that would be the last and only interaction he would ever have with Kim Seungmin.
“—Minho-ssi? Hyung? Hyung! Are you still listening?”
Minho blinks. Hyunjin stands close, waving his hand in front of Minho’s face. Behind Hyunjin, the projector screen is showing the last slide of his presentation. Minju is looking back and forth between him and Hyunjin, a nervous look on her face, while Jungwoo frowns, staring at him in concern.
Minho mentally slaps himself. He must have drifted off in the middle of the presentation. He didn’t even realize that someone had turned the lights back on.
Minho is a professional. Regardless of his personal problems or how busy the past weeks have been, he shouldn’t have let them affect his focus at work. Especially when in a meeting with a collaborator—never mind that he’s worked with Hyunjin many times before, that he’s closer to a friend than a work acquaintance.
He throws Hyunjin an apologetic look.
“I’m sorry, Hyunjin-ssi. Can you please repeat the last part?”
Hyunjin purses his lips. A hint of annoyance lingers in his expression, but it's quickly replaced by concern when Minho doesn't respond. He looks like he has something more to say—and he certainly will, once the meeting ends—but he nods and clicks his pointer to return to the previous slide.
Minho sighs and tries his best to focus.
Hyunjin repeats his explanation of the lighting layout and installation plan. Minho is glad to learn that he only missed the last point. Everything Hyunjin explains aligns with what they discussed in the last meeting. He trusts Hyunjin to decide which lighting fixtures would best suit the restaurant's ambiance and food presentation. Hyunjin only needs his input on the kitchen lighting.
Minho views the catalogue Hyunjin prepared, “It seems fine to me, Hyunjin-ssi. But if you still have concerns, I can speak with Chef Kim.”
“If you think it’s fine, Minho-ssi, then there’s no need. I trust your opinion.”
They soon wrap up the meeting. After they’re done with all the formalities, Minho walks out of the meeting room, intending to return to Shinmenu with Jungwoo and Minju. Instead Hyunjin links their arms together.
“Don't leave yet, hyung. You owe me coffee.” And an explanation, his eyes seem to add.
Minho tries to deflect, “I don't drink coffee anymore.”
“But you can still buy me coffee. And you need a break, hyung. Jungwoo reported to me that you haven't eaten anything since morning.”
His assistant smiles innocently as Minho glares at him. This is all Chan’s fault, saddling him with two of the most stubborn and meddling assistants. Even if he could break free from Hyunjin’s iron clutch, they would just return him to Hyunjin again.
He shoos them away, “You guys return first to the restaurant without me.”
Which is answered by a twin salute and grin to match. Minju at least has the decency to also bow and say, “Have a good break, Manager-nim. You too, Hyunjin-ssi.”
Then his assistants leave, and Minho reluctantly lets Hyunjin march him to the building cafeteria. Hyunjin’s office is located in Seocho, part of a high-rise building that houses small office spaces for young professionals and start-ups. So the cafeteria is at least somewhat trendy, more like a big coffee house where the workers can also have a meal.
After Hyunjin places his coffee order and gets his drink—which Minho generously pays for—and they secure a table, Hyunjin begins his interrogation.
“Are you okay, hyung?”
This is the second time someone asks him that question today. He really should have put on concealer this morning.
“Just as usual.”
“You just seem a bit… unfocused during the meeting. Did you have trouble sleeping again? Hannie asked me to check on you.”
Han Jisung and his big, blabbering mouth. Minho will deliver a swift punishment the next time they meet.
“What did Jisung say?”
Hyunjin stirs his drink, recalling Jisung’s words, “Just… that you went to the bar yesterday and didn't seem like you had enough sleep. He told me to keep an eye on you.”
At least Jisung had the good sense to leave out the part about Seungmin. Unlike Jisung, who has been Minho's friend since his university days, Hyunjin was a recent addition to their trio. He was at first Minho's work acquaintance through Chan, whom he brought to Jisung's bar one day after work and was charmed by the bar. Charmed the owner too.
Hyunjin knew something happened five years ago that made him reluctant to talk about his university days, but that’s the extent of his knowledge about Minho's past.
It’s not like Minho hides it on purpose. It just never comes up in conversation. And Minho has enough people looking at him in pity whenever Seungmin is mentioned. He doesn’t need to throw Hyunjin into the mix as well.
“I’m fine. It’s been a busy couple of weeks, that’s all. You know how it is with openings, Hyunjin-ah.”
Hyunjin doesn’t seem entirely convinced, but in the end decides to let the issue go.
“Well, at least there’s one thing off your plate! I heard from Channie-hyung you guys are having a meeting with Sky next week,” Hyunjin gives him his most charming smile. “Can I also be there?”
“Didn’t you have a business trip to Paris next week?” That’s the reason why they hold the meeting today in the first place, because Hyunjin has another client to attend to next Monday.
Hyunjin’s smile quickly turns into a frown, “I totally forget about that.”
He grabs Minho’s arms, “Hyungg, can you just tell me what they look like? And what kind of person they are? And can you please tell them one of your friends is a huge fan of their work—”
“Careful, Hyunjinnie,” warns Minho. ”Don’t want to scare them off before they agree to the project.”
Hyunjin huffs, “Right, Chan-hyung is really keen on having them shoot Sonagi’s promotional content, huh?”
Minho can detect a slight disapproval in Hyunjin’s tone. He leans forward in interest.
“Do you think hyung made a wrong decision in choosing Sky? I thought you’re a fan of their works.”
“I am. But, in my honest opinion as someone who also works in the creative industry, I don’t think Sky's a good fit for the image of Sonagi Chan-hyung has in mind. Sky’s photographs are beautiful—I love them a lot—but they always seem lonely to me.”
“What do you mean by lonely?”
Although not bustling with objects, Minho won’t describe Sky’s photographs as lonely. They are often simple, but when you take a closer look, you'll find details you didn’t notice before. Their works tell a story. Perhaps that’s why Minho feels a sense of déjà vu every time he sees their works.
Hyunjin, however, seems to disagree.
“There’s a lack of human warmth in their works. Have you noticed, hyung? Sky doesn’t take pictures of people. Only buildings and scenery. That's like, their thing.”
Hyunjin shrugs, “But those are just my personal grievances. Just different ways in which we approach art, I guess.”
The next Monday comes soon enough. Minho drives to Sonagi, where Chan and his assistants are waiting.
Sonagi is located in Yongsan, tucked in a quiet corner near a bustling neighborhood, surrounded by gingko trees. It has sleek modern architecture but with traditional influence—hanok-inspired curved tiled roof and eco-friendly materials—which matches the Korean fusion dishes they will serve in the restaurant.
“Manager-nim,” Minju greets him at the entrance, “everything is set up for the meeting with Sky-jakganim. Their ETA is in 10 minutes. Sajangnim has also already arrived ”
“Good, thank you, Minju. You can escort Sky-jakganim and their manager directly to the meeting room after they arrive.”
Minju nods.
Minho walks in first, refamiliarizing himself with Sonagi’s interior. He’s been working with Hyunjin for years, but it still amazes him how the interior designer manages to bring Chan’s and his vision to life.
While similar in concept with his previous restaurant, unlike Shinmenu, which is more targeted towards white-collar workers and government officials for business meetings and company gatherings, Sonagi is meant to be a pleasant dining destination for young people who come with friends or partners, as well as for families with their elders and children.
This is reflected in Sonagi's interior—designed to be open with little partitions, with comfortable seatings and wide space to accommodate large groups—as well as in the menu. Thanks to Chef Kim's diligent work, after months of testing and refining the menu, they come to a range of dishes suitable for the palate of people of all ages.
Chan entrusts him with managing Sonagi alongside Shinmenu. A huge responsibility, and even after years of working together, he doesn’t understand why Chan places so much trust in him, but Minho has no plans to betray that trust. He’s been developing Sonagi's concept with Chan for months—Sonagi is his as much as it is Chan. It’s the result of years of his hard work.
Minho stops in front of one of the large windows, where natural light comes in and fills the space with warmth. The trees rustling outside cast moving shadows on the wooden furniture, and through the sliding door comes the cool summer breeze.
After the opening and everything settles down, he would like to invite his grandparents over for a meal. It’s been a while since he treated them to something nice. His halabeoji doesn’t like Seoul with its bustling streets, the high-rise buildings and fast-paced life, but Minho thinks he would approve of Sonagi.
“Minho-hyung?” An eerily familiar voice interrupts his thoughts.
Minho turns around.
For a moment, time seems to slow down.
For a moment, Minho is nineteen again, and it's the last summer of high school.
Standing in his restaurant, with a camera bag and an iced americano in his hand, is Kim Seungmin. This time he’s in a white dress shirt and beige trousers, the sleeves of his shirt rolled to his elbows.
He looks like he doesn’t expect Minho to be here. Another man stands behind Seungmin—which he belatedly recognizes as Seo Changbin—, looking just as surprised.
The gears rotating in Minho’s mind slowly grind to a halt.
Oh, he thinks, it all makes sense now.
The universe does have a twisted sense of humor. He should have put two and two together sooner. Minho looks back to the various articles and magazine interviews he’s read about the elusive photographer Sky, all their works throughout the years, the sense of familiarity Minho feels when looking at them.
The constant feeling of déjà vu—that was not a mere, random feeling. Their works feel familiar because Minho used to know the hands that took the pictures, the eyes who chose the subjects. Somehow his intuition knew before his own mind realized.
Sky is Kim Seungmin.
Minho can hardly believe it. A bitter chuckle almost escapes his throat. The past truly has a way of coming back to you. Here he thought he would never run into Seungmin again. Five years of absence with no contact and now he has seen Seungmin twice in the span of one week.
No, not even that. Worse. They will be working together.
Minho doesn’t have the chance to acknowledge Seungmin or ask if he knows that Minho works at Sonagi before Chan appears.
“Sky-jakganim! Changbin-ssi! It’s really nice to finally meet you both in person,” Chan says as he shakes both of their hands. “Thank you for meeting us here.”
Seungmin still looks stunned, eyes barely leaving Minho, but Changbin quickly enters work mode and answers for them both.
“Chan-ssi, it’s an honour. Thank you for welcoming us.”
“How’s the flight from Sydney? The temperature difference must be shocking.”
Changbin chuckles, “We’re still trying to acclimate to it.”
“We’ve prepared some refreshments inside—courtesy of our chef—hopefully, they can help beat off the heat.”
Then he gestures at Minho, “Oh, and this is Lee Minho-ssi, our restaurant manager. He will be showing you around, as he’s responsible for the opening of Sonagi.”
Seungmin flinches when Minho’s name is mentioned, as if it only becomes real, that the Minho he’s seeing is not an apparition, now that someone else addresses his presence.
Seungmin is not making any move to greet him, and Minho’s stuck between Chan’s expectant gaze and Changbin’s knowing one, and has no choice but to make the first move.
He bows then offers his hand, “Hello, Sky-jakganim, it’s an honour to finally meet you.”
“Seungmin,” Seungmin visibly gulps. He still hasn’t taken Minho’s hand, “I—please, just call me Seungmin.”
“Alright,” Minho says, feeling like the word is lodged in his throat. “Seungmin-ssi.”
When Seungmin finally shakes his hand, he can feel his hand trembling. The handshake is only supposed to last a second but Seungmin’s hand lingers for a fraction longer, leaving goosebumps on Minho’s skin.
“Good,” Chan smiles, oblivious to the exchange that just happened, “Shall we move to the meeting room now?”
“I’m sorry, Chan-ssi, Minho-ssi,” Seungmin bows low, “But I’ve decided not to take on the project.”
Minho stares blankly ahead, hand gripping his pen tightly. From the corner of his eyes, Minho can see Chan’s face fall in disappointment, but he quickly covers it with a confused, polite smile.
“May I know the reason why, jakganim? If there’s something we can change or accommodate—”
“I don’t think I’m the photographer you’re looking for. And as I mentioned before, I’m planning a solo exhibition in the later part of the year. I will be quite busy and won’t have the capacity to work on this project simultaneously.”
Chan assures him, “I know it diverts slightly from your usual field of work, jakganim, but we believe in your skill and work experience. And as for your personal project, we already take it into consideration and are willing to discuss the timeline that will work for you.”
“I’m sorry, Chan-ssi,” Seungmin bows again. “You and your team have been very gracious and I appreciate the accommodation you’re willing to make for me. But this is my final answer.”
As he says his last sentence, Seungmin finally looks at him for the first time since the meeting starts. He’s been avoiding Minho’s eyes, gaze focused on either Chan or the presentation slide. But now he stares straight at Minho.
Ha, Minho is incensed, he’s doing this on purpose.
He almost forgets this petty side of Seungmin, the grudge he can hold and nurture.
They soon finish the meeting, as there’s nothing more to discuss. Though it ends on a sour note, Chan still tries his best to extend his hospitality and escorts Seungmin and his manager out.
Minho stays silent the entire time, ignoring Seungmin’s persistent gaze, not letting his emotions show on his face. However, once they leave, the irritation building in his heart reaches its peak.
He tells Chan, “I’ll go and try to convince him.”
“Wha—where are you going!? Minho-yah!”
Minho chases after them. He catches up with them just shy before they reach the parking lot.
He grabs Seungmin’s hand, forcing Seungmin to face him.
“Kim Seungmin.”
Seungmin stares at him, then at Minho’s hand on his wrist. Minho quickly releases his grip, as if suddenly burned by the contact.
Changbin decides to give them space then, “I’ll get the car, Seungmin-ah. You go talk it out.”
Once Changbin leaves, Minho asks, "Did you reject the project because of me?"
Seungmin huffs and lets out a mirthless laugh, "Not everything is about you, hyung. I already planned to say no before I know that you're part of the project."
“But yes,” Seungmin holds his gaze. “You are also a factor, hyung.”
Minho scoffs, “So this is about the documentary. I can’t believe how childish you are, Kim Seungmin.”
“You said it yourself, hyung, how disastrous it was the last time we were in the same project together.”
So this is how Seungmin wants to play the game.
Minho grits his teeth, “That's different. I'm not asking Kim Seungmin right now. I'm asking Sky, the photographer.”
"And I'm answering you as Sky, Minho-ssi,” Seungmin’s tone is cold, reverting back to formal speech, “not as your ex-boyfriend.”
Pain lances through Minho’s heart, quick as a lightning.
“Like I explained earlier to Chan-ssi, I don't think I'm a good fit for the project. I’m not an event or a brand photographer. I’m flattered that Chan-ssi thinks so highly of my works. But you guys would have better luck searching for another photographer.”
Changbin chooses that time to bring the car around. Seungmin nods at Minho before entering the car.
“Goodbye, hyung. I wish you luck with the opening.”
Minho stands still, watching as the car drives away. Unlike the goodbye from last time, this one feels final and resolute.
The sun is blazing overhead and perspirations gather below Minho’s nape and armpits. The sound of cicadas buzzing fills his ears.
The cicadas were also buzzing as loudly, that summer day five years ago.
JULY 2021 — MINHO
Minho's ears buzz, as if the cicadas are directly flapping their wings next to them. The heat radiating from the pavestone coils around his feet like a burning rope.
Seungmin stares at him in genuine confusion.
“I don’t understand.”
Minho heaves a sigh, “What part of ‘I want to break up’, that you don't understand?”
“But, why?” Seungmin’s voice is hoarse. He grabs Minho’s arm. “Why do we need to break up?”
“Aren't you tired of fighting? Because I am.”
He can feel the weariness in his bones. The constant needling and pointed stares and arguments. Being submerged in this oppressive summer heat makes it worse, his fuse lit up even with the tamest of Seungmin’s barbed retorts.
Minho just feels so, so tired.
“We're never compatible anyway. Why force something that doesn't work out?”
Hurt shines in Seungmin's eyes. He's still holding onto Minho's arm tightly.
“Hyung,” he pleads.
Minho gently pries his hand away.
“Let's not meet each other again, Kim Seungmin.”
He walks away and doesn't let himself look back.