The Party That Killed || Hyunlix

61 🕸️

Jeongin pov.
I sat at the table in the café, surrounded by friends, but in reality, I might as well not have been there. Their laughter, conversations, and plans for tomorrow bounced off me like an echo in an empty room. Everything boiled down to one image that continuously lingered in my mind. Seungmin. His face, filled with anger and disappointment.

"Why would I lie?" Those words echoed in my ears like a guilty conscience I couldn’t ignore.

“Jeongin, are you even listening?” Hyunjin's voice snapped me out of my thoughts.

I looked at him, trying to act like I was present.

“What?”

“I was asking about the movies. Are you coming with us tomorrow?” he repeated, and I nodded, not even thinking about the answer.

“Sure.”

Hyunjin studied me for a moment, and I returned to playing with my spoon, dragging it across the table. I knew he’d ask something else soon.

“Something's wrong, right?” he muttered, leaning in slightly.

I clenched my jaw, trying to stay calm. But inside... inside, everything was boiling. Something was wrong, really wrong, and I knew exactly what it was. I was the problem. My silence, my indifference.

I couldn't take it any longer. I stood up abruptly, throwing my jacket over my shoulders.

“I have to go.”

“What? Where?” Felix asked, looking at me, surprised.

I didn’t answer. I couldn’t. I just glanced at them quickly, as if I were trying to apologize, and left the café before anyone could stop me.

The cold air hit my face as soon as I stepped outside. I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself, but it didn’t help. In my head, there was still one sentence: I need to fix this.

I didn’t think about it for long. My legs carried me automatically towards Seungmin’s house. That’s where I needed to be now.

≈🎃≈

Seungmin pov.
I sat at the desk, staring at the screen of my laptop, which seemed to scream that my efforts were pointless. Every file, every fragment of information seemed to lead nowhere. My fingers pressed into the keyboard as I frantically searched through more pages. My eyes stung from the lack of sleep, and thoughts swirled in my head like restless storm clouds.

Suddenly, I heard a soft knock on the door. I wasn’t sure if I imagined it. I wasn’t expecting anyone. My parents weren’t coming back until late, and I wasn’t in the mood for more apologies or attempts to explain.

The knock came again. Reluctantly, I got up, feeling the exhaustion in every muscle, and opened the door. Jeongin was standing there. He looked determined but also like he was carrying a burden he couldn’t shake off.

“What do you want?” I asked coldly.

“To talk” he replied briefly.

“I’m not in the mood.”

I tried to shut the door, but Jeongin stopped it with his foot.

“I know you have every right to be angry at me, but I won’t leave until you listen to me.”

I sighed heavily and stepped aside, letting him in. I closed the door with a quiet snap and leaned against it, not looking at him.

“Well? I’m listening.”

“I’m sorry” he said, his voice soft, almost breaking. “I’m sorry I didn’t believe you.”

I didn’t respond.