Echoes of the Alley

18 - Quiet Growth

The sun dipped low on the horizon, casting warm, orange light across the quiet streets as Jisung trudged back to the studio. The weight of the day still clung to his shoulders, his thoughts swirling in an endless loop of self-doubt and cautious optimism. He hadn't expected Minho's friends to be so welcoming, but their kindness only added another layer of pressure. Could he really belong among them?

He pushed open the studio door, the faint scent of coffee and worn leather greeting him. Inside, Minho was already there, perched on the edge of the couch with his laptop balanced precariously on his knees. His expression was focused, lips pressed into a thin line as he worked on a track. Jisung hesitated in the doorway, the familiar nervousness creeping in.

"You just gonna stand there?" Minho asked without looking up, his tone teasing but soft.

Jisung blinked, snapping out of his thoughts. "Oh, uh, no. Just... thinking."

Minho finally glanced up, his gaze sharp but not unkind. "Thinking's dangerous. Come sit."

Jisung obeyed, settling into the armchair across from Minho. For a moment, he fiddled with the strap of his bag, unsure of what to say. The silence stretched, but it didn't feel as suffocating as before. Maybe it was the way Minho's presence anchored the room, steady and unshakable.

"Did you... get much sleep last night?" Jisung asked finally, his voice tentative.

Minho smirked faintly, tapping a key on his laptop. "What's sleep? Is that something productive people do?"

Jisung couldn't help but chuckle. "You're impossible."

"Takes one to know one," Minho shot back, his tone playful. Then, more seriously, "How about you? You seem... quieter than usual."

Jisung's fingers stilled on the strap of his bag. He shrugged, avoiding Minho's gaze. "I guess I'm just tired."

"That's not all," Minho said, leaning back against the couch. His eyes bore into Jisung, not accusing but perceptive. "You've been carrying something around for multiple days. Spill more."

The directness caught Jisung off guard. He looked down, his throat tightening. Part of him wanted to brush it off, to laugh and deflect like he always did. But another part—the part that had started to trust Minho—wanted to be honest.

"I..." He hesitated, then sighed. "I've been thinking about whenever we hang out with your friends."

Minho tilted his head, waiting.

"They are... really nice," Jisung continued, his voice barely above a whisper. "And I kept thinking, what if I mess it up? What if I say or do something stupid and ruin it? I'm not good at this... at being around people like that."

Minho's expression softened, the edges of his usual sharpness dulling. He set his laptop aside, leaning forward slightly. "First of all, you didn't mess anything up. They liked you. Hyunjin's probably already planning a karaoke night with you as the star attraction."

That earned a small, hesitant laugh from Jisung.

"Second," Minho continued, "you don't have to try so hard. Just be yourself. If they didn't like you for who you are, they wouldn't have bothered."

"But what if who I am isn't enough?" Jisung's voice cracked slightly, his insecurities spilling out before he could stop them. "What if... I'm just too awkward or weird or... I don't know."

Minho's gaze didn't waver. "You're enough. More than enough. And anyone who makes you feel otherwise isn't worth your time."

Jisung's breath hitched. He looked up, meeting Minho's steady gaze. There was no judgment there, no pity—just quiet reassurance. It felt like a lifeline, pulling him out of the swirling tide of his thoughts.