business class | minsung

2 / battle ground

Jisung stared at his phone, the text he had just sent to Minho glaring back at him like a flashing warning sign.

we need to talk
can you come over?

His stomach heaved with anxiety, his heart pounding so loud he thought it might burst out of his chest. The thought of what he was about to do made him sick, but he couldn't keep pretending everything was okay. They hadn't been okay for a long time now.

Jisung had tried to ignore it, to push down the feelings of dread that crept up every time they said goodbye. He'd told himself that it was just a phase, that they would adjust, that love would find a way to keep them together. But lately, all he felt was exhaustion—bone-deep, soul-crushing exhaustion. The constant worry, the effort to maintain something that felt like it was slipping through his fingers no matter how tightly he held on, was wearing him down.

And now, he was about to do the unthinkable. He was about to tell Minho that he couldn't do it anymore. The thought alone made his throat tighten, his eyes sting with unshed tears. But he had to be honest, didn't he? He owed that much to Minho, even if it destroyed them both.

Jisung paced around his small dorm room, wringing his hands as he tried to steady his breathing. He glanced at the clock on the wall, the seconds ticking by like a countdown to the inevitable. Each minute felt like an eternity, stretching the tension in the air until it was almost unbearable. He could almost hear Minho's voice in his head, cheerful and confident as always, completely unaware of the storm that was about to hit.

A knock at the door startled Jisung out of his thoughts. He froze for a moment, his heart lurching in his chest, before he forced himself to move. His hand trembled as he reached for the doorknob, hesitating for just a second longer, hoping for some miracle that would make all of this unnecessary. But there was no escape. He had to do this.

He opened the door to see Minho standing there, a smile on his face that immediately faltered when he saw Jisung's expression.

"Hey, babe," Minho greeted, stepping inside. "What's going on?"

Jisung shut the door behind him and leaned against it, feeling like he needed the support to stay upright. He tried to find the right words, but everything he'd rehearsed in his head evaporated the moment he saw Minho's face. All he could see was the inevitable hurt he was about to cause, the pain that would replace the warmth in those familiar eyes.

"Minho..." Jisung started, his voice barely above a whisper. He felt his chest tighten, the words catching in his throat.

Minho's eyes narrowed slightly, concern knitting his brows together. "Jisung, you're scaring me. What's going on?"

Jisung swallowed hard, his mouth suddenly dry. He took a shaky breath, trying to steady himself, but it felt like he was standing on the edge of a cliff, ready to plunge into the unknown. "I... I don't know how to say this," he began, his voice quivering. "But... I think we need to break up."

Minho's eyes widened in shock, the words clearly not computing in his mind. "What? Why? Where is this coming from?"

Jisung could feel his heart breaking all over again as he saw the hurt in Minho's eyes, but he had to push through. "We barely see each other anymore, Minho. You're always busy with your classes, I'm buried in mine, and when we do manage to talk, it's like... it's like there's nothing left to say. I feel like we're just drifting further and further apart."

Minho's face twisted in confusion and disbelief, his voice rising in protest.
"Where the hell is this coming from? We have our problems, yeah, but that doesn't mean we're done. It doesn't mean we should just throw everything away because it's not perfect!"