Echoes of the Alley

3 - Finding the Rhythm

The morning sun poured through Jisung's bedroom window, spilling golden light across the cluttered desk where his notebook lay open. The melody he had been tinkering with the night before still rang in his ears, but it felt incomplete.

He plucked at his guitar strings, the soft, uneven tune echoing through the room. It was delicate, a little hopeful, but it lacked the boldness he'd seen in Minho's movements. No matter how many notes he strung together, it wasn't enough.

"This is impossible," he groaned, leaning back in his chair, tapping the pencil against his chin. The memory of Minho's sharp turns and dynamic precision was frustratingly vivid, yet nothing he played seemed to capture that energy.

His phone buzzed, drawing him out of his thoughts. He glanced at the screen to see a text from Felix:

"Coffee shop at 11. Don't flake. We're planning phase two."

Phase two? Jisung frowned but knew better than to argue. Felix's plans were rarely optional, and honestly, he could use the distraction.

At the Coffee Shop

The small café was alive with the soft hum of conversation and the comforting aroma of freshly brewed coffee. Jisung slumped into his chair, clutching his latte like it was his last lifeline. Across from him, Felix and Jeongin leaned on the table, looking far too amused at his defeated expression.

"So?" Felix said, his eyes gleaming with curiosity. "How'd it go?"

"It was... fine," Jisung mumbled, taking a long sip of his coffee.

"'Fine' is code for 'terrible,'" Jeongin said, smirking.

"Not terrible," Jisung defended. "Just... complicated. He danced, I tried to talk, he was blunt, and then he left. That's literally all that happened."

"Did you learn anything useful?" Seungmin asked, appearing with a plate of croissants as if he'd been waiting for the right moment to interject.

Jisung hesitated. "Kind of? I mean, I got to see him dance again, so that was helpful. I get his style a little better—fast, sharp, confident. But he's not big on talking, so..."

"You've got your work cut out for you," Felix said.

"Yeah," Jisung muttered, drumming his fingers against the table. "He's like a locked vault. But I don't know. There's something about him. It's like his dance is saying everything he's not."

Jeongin leaned forward, his grin mischievous. "Sounds like someone's a little obsessed."

Jisung shot him a glare, his cheeks heating up. "I'm not obsessed! I'm just... invested. Only because of the song though."
"Sure," Jeongin said, drawing out the word.

Felix placed a hand on Jisung's shoulder, giving him a reassuring smile. "Look, if you're trying to connect with him, you've got to find common ground. He dances, you write music. That's already something. Just keep trying."

Jisung nodded slowly, the knot of uncertainty in his chest loosening a little. "Yeah. Okay. I'll try again."

Later That Afternoon

The gym was quieter than Jisung expected, the faint hum of lo-fi beats drifting through the hall as he stood outside Studio B. The receptionist had pointed him here, but now he hesitated, nerves bubbling up as he peeked through the glass door.

Inside, Minho was mid-practice, moving through a sequence with effortless precision. Every turn, every leap, was perfectly timed, like his body was an extension of the music itself. Jisung felt a pang of awe, followed quickly by doubt. How was he supposed to match that kind of perfection with a song?