Echoes of the Alley

5 - Fractures and Foundations

The gray clouds hung low over the city the next morning, draping the streets in a dull, muted haze. Jisung sat by the café window with his usual group—Felix, Jeongin, and Seungmin. His untouched coffee had long since gone cold, but he was too busy doodling half-complete lyrics in his notebook to notice.

"You've been weirdly quiet today," Felix said, leaning his chin on his hand. "What's up? Still thinking about Minho?"

Seungmin raised an eyebrow. "He's always thinking about Minho."

"I am not," Jisung shot back, but his reddening ears betrayed him.

Jeongin smirked. "Sure, and I'm the owner of this place."

"Okay, fine," Jisung groaned, closing the notebook with a snap. "It's just... he's so frustrating! One second, he's helpful. But the next, it's like I'm some kind of nuisance. And then he just disappears into thin air."

Felix tapped the edge of his coffee cup thoughtfully. "You said he looked upset yesterday, right?"

"Yeah, but when I tried to ask him about it, he just told me to go home."

"Maybe he's not used to people caring," Seungmin offered.

Jeongin nodded. "Or maybe he's scared you're gonna find out something he doesn't want you to."

Jisung blinked at them, their words sinking in slowly. "I don't know... I just feel like there's something more to him. And—" he hesitated, chewing his lip—"I want to figure it out. But I don't want to push him too hard, either."

Felix smiled warmly, nudging Jisung's arm. "Just be yourself, Ji. You're good at breaking through walls, even the brick ones."

Jisung couldn't help but laugh at that. "Thanks, Lix. I'll try."

The Studio

Jisung arrived at the studio later that afternoon, guitar case in hand. He wasn't sure if Minho would be there, but a part of him hoped he would be.

As soon as he pushed the door open, the sound of rhythmic thuds filled the air. Minho was there, his lithe form moving fluidly across the floor. His shirt clung to him, damp with sweat, and his face was locked in intense concentration.

Jisung paused in the doorway, watching for a moment. There was something almost hypnotic about the way Minho danced—every move sharp yet effortless, as though he wasn't bound by the limits of gravity.

When Minho finally stopped, chest heaving and beads of sweat dripping down his temple, he caught sight of Jisung. His brows furrowed slightly, but he didn't say anything right away.

"Uh, hey," Jisung said, stepping inside. "I wasn't sure you'd be here."

Minho grabbed a towel, wiping his face before responding. "Why are you here?"

"To practice." Jisung set his guitar case down, his voice softer. "And... maybe to check on you."

Minho's movements stilled. "I told you, I don't need checking on."

"I know you did," Jisung said, his tone carefully steady. "But I wanted to anyway."

Minho looked at him for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Then, with a sigh, he sat on the edge of the platform and motioned for Jisung to sit too.

Jisung hesitated, surprised by the gesture, but he quickly complied.

For a while, they sat in silence, the hum of the studio lights filling the space between them.

"Why do you care so much?" Minho finally asked, his voice low.

Jisung thought for a moment before answering. "Because I know what it feels like to have people not care. And I don't want anyone else to feel that way."

Minho's gaze softened, just barely. He didn't say anything, but the tension in his shoulders seemed to ease.

Late Night Musings

As the sun set, Jisung found himself walking home in the dim glow of the streetlights. He was lost in thought, replaying the conversation over and over again in his mind. There was something raw about the way Minho had looked at him—a flicker of vulnerability that Jisung hadn't seen before.

He pulled his jacket tighter around himself as the cool night air nipped at his skin. The city felt unusually quiet, like it was holding its breath, waiting for something.

When Jisung finally made it home, he sat on the edge of his bed, his guitar resting in his lap. He didn't know if he'd ever truly understand Minho, but for the first time, he felt like he was starting to see the cracks in the armor.

Minho's Thoughts

Meanwhile, Minho sat alone in the empty studio, the faint echo of his footsteps the only sound.

He replayed Jisung's words in his mind:
"Because I know what it feels like to have people not care."

It wasn't the first time someone had offered him kindness, but it was the first time in a long time it felt genuine.

Minho ran a hand through his hair, staring at his reflection in the mirror. He didn't know what Jisung saw in him, or why he bothered to try.

But maybe, just maybe, he didn't want him to stop.

———————

— A/N: This chapter is kind of short :(( BUT I HOPE IT'S GOOD!

— Recommended song for this chapter: "The Night We Met" by Lord Huron