BLOSSOMS IN THE SPOLIGHT | HEESEUNG

23: The Weight of Unspoken Words

The days that followed felt like a delicate balancing act for Heeseung. Every interaction with Jia was infused with a new kind of awareness, as if the air between them had shifted. He was more attuned to her than ever—how she smiled, how she laughed, how her eyes would light up when she talked about something she was passionate about. But the closer they became, the more Heeseung felt the weight of his unspoken feelings bearing down on him.

It wasn't just about him anymore. He knew that the others had noticed—how could they not? The way he looked at Jia wasn't something he could hide, not from people who knew him as well as his bandmates did. The teasing from Jake and Sunghoon had become more frequent, though it was always done with a certain lightness. They weren't trying to make him feel bad; they just wanted him to stop running away from the truth.

But the truth was complicated. Heeseung had grown to care deeply about Jia, not just as a friend, but as someone who had become an essential part of his life. And that scared him. He was terrified of what might happen if he let his feelings slip. What if she didn't feel the same? What if he lost her completely? The idea of ruining what they had kept him in a constant state of hesitation, trapped between what he wanted and what he feared.

One evening, the group decided to meet up at the practice room for a low-key hangout. It had been a long week of rehearsals and interviews, and everyone was eager to relax. As they settled in with snacks and drinks, the usual lively banter filled the room, but Heeseung couldn't fully engage. His mind was elsewhere—stuck on the growing tension between him and Jia.

She was sitting across from him, laughing at something Sunoo had said, and Heeseung found himself watching her, mesmerized by the sound of her laughter. It was moments like these that reminded him why he had fallen for her in the first place. She was bright, warm, and so full of life that it was impossible not to be drawn to her.

But tonight, there was something different in the way she interacted with him. Her gaze flickered toward him more often than usual, and there was a softness in her eyes when she caught him looking. It wasn't just him who was struggling to navigate the awkwardness between them—Jia seemed to sense it too.

At some point during the evening, Sunghoon nudged Heeseung with a knowing grin. "You're staring again," he whispered under his breath, just loud enough for Heeseung to hear but not so loud that the others would catch on.

Heeseung's face heated up, and he quickly looked away, embarrassed. "I wasn't staring," he muttered, though he knew it was a lie. He was always staring these days—whether he realized it or not.

Sunghoon rolled his eyes. "Right. Keep telling yourself that."

The conversation around the room continued, but Heeseung couldn't shake the feeling that everyone knew more than they were letting on. It wasn't just Sunghoon who had noticed; there were subtle glances exchanged between the other members too. Even Ni-ki, who usually stayed out of the more emotional topics, had started giving him these sideways looks, as if he was waiting for Heeseung to finally admit what everyone already knew.

As the evening wore on, the group began to wind down. One by one, the boys started heading out, leaving Heeseung and Jia alone in the practice room. It wasn't unusual for them to linger after everyone else had left—they often stayed behind to talk or work on music together—but tonight, the silence between them felt charged with everything left unsaid.

Heeseung leaned back against the couch, trying to act casual even though his heart was pounding in his chest. He could feel Jia's presence beside him, and the closeness made it even harder to keep his thoughts in check.

"You've been quiet tonight," Jia said softly, breaking the silence. She was looking at him with that same curious expression she'd had the last time they were alone. "Is something on your mind?"

Heeseung hesitated. He didn't know how to answer her without giving too much away. "Just tired, I guess," he said, using the same excuse he'd given the boys earlier that week.

Jia wasn't convinced. "You've been saying that a lot lately." She paused, her gaze steady on his. "You know you can talk to me, right? About anything."

The sincerity in her voice made Heeseung's heart ache. He wanted so badly to tell her, to just get it all out in the open and see what happened. But the fear of losing her—of losing what they had—was still too great.

"I know," Heeseung said quietly, his eyes dropping to the floor. "It's just... complicated."

Jia shifted closer to him, her knee brushing against his. "Heeseung, you don't have to pretend everything's fine. If something's bothering you, I want to help."

Her words were like a lifeline, but they also felt like a weight pressing down on him. How could he explain that the thing bothering him was her? That every moment spent with her was a reminder of how much he wanted to be more than just her friend?

Heeseung swallowed hard, his mouth dry. "It's not something I can talk about easily."

Jia's expression softened, and she reached out, her hand gently resting on his arm. The touch sent a jolt through him, and for a moment, he forgot how to breathe. "Whatever it is, I'm here for you," she said softly. "Whenever you're ready."

Heeseung looked up at her, his heart pounding in his chest. The words were on the tip of his tongue—I like you, I've liked you for a long time—but he couldn't say them. Not yet. Instead, he nodded, giving her a small, grateful smile. "Thanks, Jia."

For the rest of the evening, they sat in comfortable silence, the unspoken feelings hanging between them like a thread waiting to be pulled. Heeseung's mind raced with thoughts of what might happen if he told her the truth—if he took that risk and let her into the part of his heart he'd been hiding for so long.

But even as he sat there, stealing glances at Jia when she wasn't looking, Heeseung knew that the longer he kept his feelings bottled up, the harder it would be to move forward. It wasn't just about his own fear anymore; it was about what he owed her. She deserved honesty, and he couldn't keep pretending that everything was fine when it wasn't.

---

The next few days passed in a blur, with practice sessions and meetings taking up most of Heeseung's time. But no matter how busy his schedule got, he couldn't stop thinking about Jia. Every time he saw her, his heart would skip a beat, and the weight of his unspoken feelings would settle back in his chest.

The boys had stopped teasing him as much, though they still gave him knowing looks whenever Jia was around. It was clear that they were waiting for him to make a move, but Heeseung wasn't sure if he was ready. Admitting his feelings to himself had been hard enough—confessing them to Jia felt like an entirely different challenge.

But the more time passed, the more Heeseung realized that he couldn't keep avoiding the inevitable. The tension between him and Jia was growing, and he couldn't help but wonder if she sensed it too. Maybe she was waiting for him to say something, to finally bridge the gap that had been widening between them.

One evening, after a particularly grueling practice, Heeseung found himself standing outside the dorms, staring up at the night sky. The stars were bright, and the air was cool against his skin, but his mind was still racing with thoughts of Jia.

He had to tell her. He couldn't keep living like this, caught between what he wanted and what he feared. It wasn't fair to her, and it wasn't fair to himself.

Taking a deep breath, Heeseung pulled out his phone and typed out a message to Jia.

Hey, can we talk? There's something I need to tell you.

He stared at the screen for what felt like an eternity, his thumb hovering over the send button. This was it—the moment that could change everything.

With a final surge of determination, Heeseung pressed send, his heart pounding in his chest as he waited for her reply.