The silence in the car was deafening, the kind that made Nabi's skin crawl. It wasn't the kind of silence that begged for comfort or peace—it was awkward, jagged, suffocating. She would've preferred 100 needles in her body without anesthesia. And for someone as meticulous about self-preservation as Nabi, that was saying something.
Her nails tapped against the armrest in uneven rhythms, betraying the war waging in her head. A part of her wanted to break the silence, to say something, but another part clung to the safety of inaction. Hansol was unreadable, an impenetrable fortress of emotions, and that terrified her.
She could apologize—of course she could. But apologies were a fragile bandage for the kind of damage they'd done to each other. Her therapist had been clear: healing wasn't a straight line, and sometimes, "sorry" just wasn't enough.
Therapy had been Nabi's lifeline, a step she never thought she'd take. Over the past few months, she'd learned to acknowledge her mistakes, take accountability, and—most importantly—begin the painstaking process of moving on. Whether she deserved to move on was a different story. Some days, she wasn't so sure.
The sound of Hansol's voice, low and restrained, cut through her spiraling thoughts. "We're here."
Nabi swore those were the best words she'd ever heard. Sure, she wanted to make amends, but the idea of staying in that car for another second? Unbearable.
For the first time since stepping into the vehicle, she turned to him. Summoning a faint smile, she tried to appear unbothered, her therapist's mantra ringing in her head: Let the past stay in the past.
"Thanks," she said simply, but before she could get out, a shout from outside the car interrupted her.
"Nabi!"
She squinted through the night, and a smile crept onto her lips when she spotted the culprit. Of course, it was Jeonghan, exuding his usual air of effortless charm.
Turning back toward Hansol, she noticed his expression had shifted. His jaw hung slightly open, his eyes wide, and for a split second, he looked utterly vulnerable. Then, just as quickly, he snapped back to his usual guarded self.
Nabi chose not to dwell on it. She grabbed her bag and stepped out, letting the night air wash over her.
Jeonghan was dressed to the nines—button-down, slacks, and the kind of confidence that turned heads. "Finally! You made it!" he exclaimed, pulling Nabi into a quick side hug.
She smiled politely, though she found herself marveling at how effortlessly likable he was. She wasn't even sure she liked him all that much, yet here she was, feeling strangely at ease.
Jeonghan's gaze darted to the car. "Yo, Hansol! You coming out, or are you planning to mope all night?"
The younger boy sighed audibly, his annoyance visible even from the curb. "What do you think?"
Jeonghan chuckled, unfazed. "So sassy~. C'mon, it'll be fun."
Hansol didn't budge. Nabi tilted her head, wondering if he'd even wanted to come in the first place.
With a dramatic flourish, Jeonghan pulled a small card from his pocket. The words Get Out of Practice Free Card were written in bold. Nabi raised an eyebrow, but before she could ask, Hansol was out of the car in a flash, snatching the card from Jeonghan's hand.
Jeonghan grinned, triumphant. "Let's go! My friends are waiting inside."
The warmth of the restaurant was a welcome contrast to the icy tension that had followed them. Nabi glanced around, taking in the soft glow of the lights and the cozy ambiance. "Wow, this is nice," she murmured, her voice more subdued than she intended.
Jeonghan beamed. "Right? Best food in town."
Hansol trailed behind them, his expression unreadable. The restaurant was familiar to him—he'd been there countless times—but tonight, everything felt off. He couldn't shake the feeling that Jeonghan was up to something.
When they reached the private room, Jeonghan's excitement was palpable. "Guys!" he called out, drawing the attention of three men already seated. "This is Nabi. Nabi, these are my friends—Junhui, Wonwoo, and Minghao."
The introductions were smooth, everyone offering polite smiles and handshakes. Everyone except Hansol, who hung back, watching the scene unfold with furrowed brows.
Jeonghan's arm draped casually over Nabi's shoulder as he led her to a seat next to him, across from Minghao. Hansol's stomach twisted when he realized the only open chair was at the far end of the table, next to Wonwoo. He hesitated, torn between wanting to stay close to her and wanting to keep his distance.
In the end, he sat down, though his gaze never left her.
As the group settled in, Wonwoo broke the ice. "So, how do you know Jeonghan?"
Nabi smiled, shrugging off her coat. "We met at a party last year, then randomly bumped into each other recently. Now I'm overseeing his photoshoot with RockSt4r."
The group accepted her explanation easily, nodding along. But Hansol froze.
A party? Last year? His mind raced, piecing together fragments of memory. Had Jeonghan met Nabi that night? That night?
His chest tightened, questions bubbling to the surface. Did Jeonghan know? Had he orchestrated this entire thing?
Across the table, Nabi seemed oblivious to his inner turmoil, chatting easily with Minghao and Junhui. For the first time in months, she felt like she belonged somewhere. But Hansol's eyes bore into her, his unspoken thoughts hanging heavy in the air.
Jeonghan's laughter rang out, breaking Hansol's trance. He forced himself to look away, but the knot in his stomach only tightened.
Something about this night felt wrong. And Hansol couldn't shake the feeling that whatever had been left in the past was about to resurface in a way neither of them could ignore.
