stars × cnblue kangminhyuk

14 : The Ache of Goodbye

He carried me all the way down to the dark, echoing ground floor car park. His arms were firm and unyielding, and though I tried to resist, I could only clutch onto him helplessly. The only sounds that filled the vast, empty space were the sharp, steady rhythm of his footsteps and the uneven hitch of my breath.

"Cheol-ah," I whispered, my voice breaking as I buried my face deeper into his chest. The warmth of his body and the faint scent of his cologne were both too familiar, too comforting. My fingers curled tighter into his shirt. "Put me down."

He stopped mid-step, the silence suddenly heavy between us. Slowly, gently, he lowered me until my feet touched the cold concrete. But even then, he didn't let go immediately; his hands lingered at my arms, steadying me as though afraid I might collapse. His gaze searched my face, softening as he finally asked in a low voice, "You noticed me?"

Seungcheol's shades caught the dim fluorescent light before he pulled them off and slid them into his jacket pocket. Even with the black cap tugged low and the face mask hiding half his face, I could never mistake him for anyone else. I'd known him too long, too deeply. That broad frame, those wide shoulders—it was still the same Seungcheol I grew up with. A boy who had turned into a man before my eyes, but still refused to acknowledge the single year separating us.

"You're reckless," I scolded, my voice trembling with both anger and relief. I slapped his arm, though the sting of it hardly reached him. "The media will recognize you, your fans will. What were you even thinking, running out like this?" I wiped hastily at my face, knowing how smudged and tear-streaked I must have looked. But it didn't matter—Seungcheol had seen me like this too many times before. To me, he was almost like a baby brother I never had, someone who had always been there in the background.

He smirked then, pulling down his face mask and tucking it away. His eyes glimmered with a mischief that contrasted the heaviness in my chest. "Well, thanks to me, you'll be the hottest headline in tomorrow's papers. CNBLUE's Kang Minhyuk's girlfriend attacked at a grocery store—rescued by a mysterious man in black. Doesn't that sound dramatic? Fancy, even?"

I rolled my eyes at him, though it was difficult with how puffy and swollen they were from crying earlier. "What do you want, Choi Seungcheol?" My sigh came out heavy, resigned. He always played this cool, detached role, but I knew better. His aloofness was only a mask for how much he cared.

"A chance." His smirk faded, replaced with something more vulnerable. He glanced away, his jaw tightening as though it took every ounce of strength to say the words. "A chance you never gave me."

My heart clenched. Not this again. Not here, not now.

I reached out and touched his right hand softly. "Cheol-ah—"

But he pulled away, his eyes hardening though his voice cracked with the weight of everything unsaid. "I tried, noona. I tried to focus just on my career all these years, but no matter what I did, I couldn't stop thinking about you. It was never easy." His breath hitched as his lips trembled. "You were always there, since kindergarten. You were the first girl I ever cared for. Do you know how crushed I was when you moved away? You'll never understand it."

"Seungcheol, please..." The words scraped out of me, my heart twisting painfully. He wasn't just some friend from childhood—he had been my shadow, quietly protecting me in ways I hadn't realized until much later.

"No, listen to me." His laugh was short, almost bitter, even as tears glistened and spilled down his cheeks. He wiped them quickly, as though embarrassed to show weakness.

"When we met again in high school, you were already obsessed with CNBLUE. You lived and breathed them—Jungshin this, CNBLUE that. I hated it. I was jealous of something I couldn't compete with. I wanted your attention so badly. I wanted you so badly." His voice deepened, trembling with honesty. "So I thought if I became an idol, you'd look at me the way you looked at them. I worked myself to the bone. I auditioned, got accepted, moved schools... I gave up everything just to become someone worthy of you. And now, look at me."

His hands suddenly cupped my cheeks, forcing me to look up into his tear-stained eyes. They were fiery, desperate. "Look at me, Hyojin. I'm an idol now. I did this for you. All of this—for you. But in the end, I still failed, didn't I?"

"Seungcheol..." My voice broke into a sob. I wanted to explain, to tell him he was wrong, but the words caught in my throat. He had always been precious to me, someone I adored deeply—but not in the way he wanted. Never in that way. To me, he was the sweet boy who followed me around in kindergarten, the boy who teased me endlessly in middle school, the boy who disappeared suddenly in high school to chase his dream. My baby brother in everything but blood. But he deserved more than just the affection of a sister figure, and I knew that.

He pulled me into a crushing hug, his arms wrapping around me so tightly it almost hurt. His face buried into the crook of my neck, his warm breath shaky against my skin. I froze for a moment before slowly wrapping my arms around his waist. My sweet Choi Seungcheol had grown into a man who no longer hid his feelings. Back then, he hadn't known how to name them, but now... he could declare them clear and raw, no matter how much they cut.

We stayed like that, locked in silence, the world shrinking down to just the two of us and the dull hum of the parking lot lights. Five minutes stretched like an eternity before he finally pulled back. His eyes glistened, but his lips curled into a humorless laugh.

"Did Minhyuk sunbae kiss you?"

"Choi Seungcheol!" I gasped, punching his ribs lightly in protest.

He giggled, boyish for a fleeting second, before a tear slipped down his cheek.

"Ah, so he did kiss you." His voice was soft, but the words landed like a heavy stone between us. He smiled, but it was broken, his heart bleeding through the cracks. "Okay then."

He nodded, forcing himself to look composed, though I could see the devastation in the way his shoulders slumped, in the way his gaze kept avoiding mine.

"Take care, noona," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "I have to go."

And just like that, he turned away.

I wanted to stop him. I wanted to call his name, to run after him and hold on. But my body refused to move, rooted to the cold concrete as if weighed down by guilt and sorrow. He didn't even spare me one last glance as he walked away, pulling his black shades back on, mask concealing the tears that still wet his cheeks. His tall frame disappeared into the shadows, each step echoing like the sound of something breaking inside me.

And as the darkness swallowed him whole, I felt it—the ache of loss, sharper than I'd ever imagined. It was as if a part of me had walked away with him.