Minho and Jisung-two stars in the same orbit, bound by friendship yet aching for more.
Minho chases a dream his father rejects, torn between ambition and forbidden love.
Jisung, the perfect son, hides his longing behind a flawless smile.
In a w...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
۶ৎ
Song of the chapter: Maze of memories By skz
Chapter: 20
Jisung had been carrying his anger like a silent storm, the kind that simmered below the surface, waiting for an excuse to break free. The bruises on his ribs, faint but persistent, were a reminder of the chase in the parking lot. He could still feel the adrenaline coursing through his veins, his heart racing as the adrenaline-fueled panic had surged through him. He had barely spoken about it, choosing instead to bury it beneath layers of forced normalcy, because he knew he couldn't drag Minho into it. Minho already had enough on his plate. The weight of expectations, the burden of his dream to debut, the constant pressure from his father—it was too much. Jisung couldn't add to that, not yet.
But the resentment was still there, festering beneath his skin, turning his veins into molten lava. Every time he caught Gyuvin's gaze across the cafeteria or saw him smirking with his group of friends, it flared up. The tension in his chest tightened, his body unconsciously clenching in response. He didn't trust Gyuvin. Not anymore. And the more he tried to bury it, the more it pushed back.
Jisung barely slept. When he did, it was shallow, restless, plagued by nightmares that made his skin crawl. In the dead of night, his thoughts would return to the parking lot—the haunting laughter of his pursuers, the rush of footsteps behind him, the way he had felt trapped. His subconscious had a way of twisting those memories into grotesque shapes, and he'd wake up covered in a cold sweat, his pulse racing, eyes wide open, unsure of where he was.
He kept his bedside lamp on, a small comfort against the paranoia that refused to fade. Every creak of the floorboards, every distant murmur outside his window, sent his heart into overdrive. He would lie there, frozen, staring at the ceiling, debating whether he was being irrational or if there really was someone lurking just beyond his sight. His mind, always spinning, refused to slow down. Thoughts came and went like an endless river, twisting and turning, creating whirlpools of anxiety and uncertainty.
When his alarm went off, he groaned, rolling onto his side and shutting his eyes tightly. The light from his phone screen seemed to burn into his retinas. He wanted to skip school, to lock his bedroom door, to shut out the world and pretend like everything was okay. But he couldn't. He had to go. He had to keep up appearances.
Dragging his exhausted body to the shower, the hot water did little to soothe his tense muscles. His mind was still running a thousand miles a minute. Thoughts of his mother drifted in and out of his mind, a constant, silent presence. She was more of a concept to him than a real person. He never saw her, never heard from her, and when he did, it was always business. She was the director of the school, a powerful figure who never let herself get tangled in the messes of the students. What did she even know about his life? Did she care?
