Inspired by Songs.......Gongfourz Oneshots (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

I like me better

I knew from the first time
I'd stay for a long time 'cause
I like me better when
I like me better when I'm with you

Leehan's first impression of New York was that it never stopped moving.

Cabs blared their horns at every light. Strangers brushed past without so much as a glance. Neon signs buzzed and screamed for attention. The city pulsed with a heartbeat, and Leehan—dragging his scuffed suitcase behind him—felt like a tourist in someone else's dream.

He stopped in Times Square, craning his neck to take in the dizzying screens overhead. For a moment, he tried to pretend he wasn't nervous and belonged here. But the truth pressed heavily on his chest: he was alone in a city too big to hold.

That's when he noticed him.

A boy leaning against a lamppost. Sketchbook in hand. Headphones looped around his neck, the cord tangling lazily. His hair fell in dark, easy waves, and he looked impossibly calm, like the chaos around him didn't dare touch him.

Leehan should have looked away. But his gaze lingered, caught on the way the boy's pencil moved—confident, steady, as if he was capturing the entire city in a single stroke.

And then the boy looked up.

Their eyes met. Leehan froze.

The boy tilted his head slightly, lips tugging into a knowing half-smile. He closed the sketchbook, slipped it under his arm, and walked toward him with unhurried steps—like he had all the time in the world, like he'd been expecting him.

"You're not from here," the boy said, voice low but clear over the hum of the city.

Leehan blinked, caught off guard. "How can you tell?"

The boy's smile deepened. "Because you're standing in the middle of Times Square looking like the city just knocked the wind out of you. Locals don't stop to stare."

Leehan felt heat rise to his cheeks. "Guilty."

The boy extended a hand. "Taesan."

Leehan hesitated, then slipped his hand into Taesan's. His grip was warm, grounding. For a second, the noise around them blurred into silence.

"Leehan," he murmured.

"Leehan," Taesan repeated, testing the name like it meant something. "You hungry?"

Leehan blinked again. "Uh—what?"

"Hungry," Taesan said simply, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "There's a pizza place around the corner. Cheapest slice in Manhattan. Consider it your official welcome."

Leehan wanted to say no, wanted to retreat into his safe, solitary bubble. But the way Taesan was looking at him—curious, amused, just a little kind—made him nod before he even thought it through.

And just like that, Leehan followed a stranger into the city that had terrified him only moments before.

It didn't feel so terrifying anymore.

______________________________________💓

The pizza place Taesan led him to was the kind you wouldn't find in a guidebook. The neon sign flickered, the cracked tile floor looked like it hadn't been replaced in decades, and the menu was handwritten in fading marker. But the smell—the smell was enough to make Leehan's stomach grumble on the spot.

"Two cheese slices," Taesan told the guy behind the counter, slapping a crumpled bill onto it before Leehan could even reach for his wallet.

"I could've paid—" Leehan started.