Han Jisung never planned to fall in love on the school trip. Especially not with Lee Minho. The same Minho who once threw a pen at his head. The same Minho whose stare used to feel like a threat. But somehow, between stolen lighters, forbidden joints, and a drunk teacher who stopped caring, the hate started to fade. And something else took its place. Something terrifying. Addicting. Real. Now Jisung's high, confused, and sitting across from the boy who carried him like a princess up a flight of stairs - like none of the history mattered. Maybe it doesn't. Maybe they were never enemies. Maybe they were always just waiting for a reason to collide. -- #15 -> minsung / 5. July 2025

There's a pamphlet somewhere with Minho's whole childhood in it. Emotional numbing. A common trauma response. They gave it to his grandmother, patted her hand, and sent the two of them home into the rain. He hadn't noticed anything was off. Trust other children to do the noticing, that unpaid council of experts on the playground, forever asking why his face just stayed shut when everyone else's flew open at the smallest thing. He wakes on the couch with an alien boy sat on his chest and two small fingers hooking the corners of his mouth upwards. "What are you doing." "Making yours go like mine." OR: local recluse Lee Minho, afraid of nothing much except the rain, finds the thing the village swears is a monster in the woods-and lets it stay.

They say they're best friends. But behind closed doors-between stolen kisses, tangled sheets, and whispered confessions that never quite make it out loud-Jisung and Minho are so much more. They don't do labels. They don't talk about feelings. And they definitely don't act like they're in love. Except everyone sees it. Feels it. Because best friends don't look at each other like that. -- #1 -> minsung / 4. Juli 2025

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