Echoes of the Alley

15 - Balancing the Weight

The evening air was crisp, a faint breeze rustling the leaves as Jisung sat on a secluded park bench. The city buzzed faintly in the distance, but here in the quiet, his thoughts drowned out everything else. His knees were drawn up to his chest, arms wrapped around them as he tried to find some semblance of calm. But the whirlwind in his head refused to settle.

He had meant to respond to the group chat hours ago, but every time he opened his phone, his chest tightened. It felt like there was always something—some expectation he was supposed to meet, some standard he wasn't quite living up to. The merge of his two friend groups had gone smoother than he had feared, but the lingering worry that he didn't truly belong in either still gnawed at him.

The sound of footsteps on gravel made him look up, and his heart sank and rose at the same time when he saw Minho approaching. Dressed in a simple hoodie and jeans, Minho looked as if he had walked straight out of the pages of a casual fashion magazine, but his expression was one of subtle concern.

"You ghosting us now?" Minho asked lightly, stopping a few feet away. His voice was teasing, but there was an edge to it that Jisung couldn't ignore.

Jisung quickly looked away, fidgeting with the hem of his sleeve. "No, just... needed some air."

Minho didn't reply immediately. Instead, he moved to sit down beside Jisung, leaving a comfortable amount of space between them. He leaned back on the bench, his posture relaxed but his gaze sharp as he studied Jisung.

"You've been quiet lately," Minho said after a moment. "More than usual."

"I'm fine," Jisung muttered, though even he didn't sound convinced.

Minho tilted his head, clearly unimpressed. "You're a terrible liar."

Jisung sighed, letting his head fall against his knees. "It's just... a lot. Everything. Trying to keep up with you guys, my friends, music... I feel like I'm just constantly behind."

"Behind what?" Minho's tone wasn't mocking; it was genuinely curious. "There's no finish line, Jisung. You're just making it harder on yourself by thinking that way."

Jisung glanced at him, his eyes wide with frustration. "You make it sound so simple."

"It's not simple," Minho admitted. "But that doesn't mean it has to be impossible."

The words settled over Jisung like a heavy blanket—both comforting and suffocating. He wanted to believe Minho, but the weight of his own mind made it difficult. Still, he mumbled a quiet "Thanks" before the silence between them stretched, not uncomfortable but not entirely easy either.

—
By the time Jisung made it back to the apartment, the day's tension had shifted to a dull ache in his chest. He pushed open the door to find Felix sprawled on the couch, his phone glowing in the dim light. At the sound of Jisung's footsteps, Felix looked up and grinned.

"There you are! Thought you'd gotten lost or something."

Jisung managed a weak smile. "Just went for a walk."

Felix sat up, patting the cushion beside him. "Come on, sit. I was just about to start a movie. Something dumb and funny—you'll love it."

"Maybe later," Jisung replied, his voice softer than usual. "I'm gonna head to my room for a bit."

Felix frowned but didn't push. "Okay. But let me know if you change your mind."

Jisung nodded and retreated to his room, the familiar space offering little comfort as he sat on the edge of his bed. The day's events replayed in his mind, each moment feeling heavier than the last. He could hear faint voices from the living room—Felix and Seungmin talking in hushed tones. Though he couldn't make out their words, he knew they were talking about him.

The thought made his stomach churn. He hated being the subject of concern, hated the idea of people worrying about him when he couldn't even sort himself out. He buried his face in his hands, the familiar sting of frustration and shame bubbling to the surface.

—
Later that night, Minho sent him a text: Studio?

Jisung hesitated before typing back: Sure.

The studio was quiet when he arrived, the soft glow of the equipment casting long shadows across the room. Minho was already there, seated at the console with a pair of headphones around his neck. He glanced up when Jisung walked in and gestured for him to sit.

"Thought we could mess around with some tracks," Minho said, his tone casual. "Nothing serious. Just for fun."

Jisung nodded, sliding into the chair beside him. For a while, they worked in companionable silence, layering beats and experimenting with melodies. Slowly, Jisung felt the tightness in his chest ease, the familiar rhythm of creation soothing his frayed nerves.

At one point, Minho leaned back and said, "You know, when I first started doing this, I thought I had to be perfect. Like, if I wasn't, I'd fail completely."

Jisung looked at him, surprised by the admission. "You? Really?"

Minho smirked faintly. "Yeah. Shocking, right? But I learned pretty quick that chasing perfection just makes you miserable. You end up missing all the good stuff because you're too focused on what you think you're doing wrong."

Jisung let the words sink in, a small flicker of hope igniting in his chest. "How'd you get past it?"

"I didn't," Minho admitted. "Not completely. But I stopped letting it control me. Took a while, though."

Jisung nodded, a faint smile tugging at his lips. For the first time in a while, he felt like maybe he wasn't alone in his struggles. Maybe he didn't have to figure it all out right away.

—
When Jisung finally climbed into bed that night, he felt a strange mix of exhaustion and relief. Minho's words lingered in his mind, a quiet reassurance that he could carry into tomorrow. But as he stared at the ceiling, the flicker of hope was accompanied by the familiar weight of doubt.

He wasn't sure how long he could keep balancing the two, but for now, he had made it through another day.
And maybe that was enough.

———————

— A/N: Nyehe, more minsung. Anyway! Thanksgiving special is tomorrow, can someone try guessing how many chapters I'll be releasing?

— Recommended song for this chapter: "Unfair" by The Neighbourhood