Chapter Text
Minho has never seen someone as perfect as Han Jisung.
Today, Jisung is sitting on a table that is conveniently in Minho's line of sight, giving him the ability to admire his crush to his heart's delight. Even though the university cafeteria is packed with groggy, bleary-eyed students, Minho's attention is fully on Jisung, who is also groggy and bleary-eyed, like always, but nonetheless the most beautiful thing Minho has ever seen. Jisung's hair is fluffy and unbrushed, suggesting that he spent the entire night and early morning in the music studio, working on another heart-wrenching symphony which Minho would do anything to dance to.
"The prince's identity has not yet been revealed to the public, but it has been announced that his first appearance will be on a live broadcast of a formal ceremony to mark his engagement to the daughter of the prime minister, Park Jinyoung. Only after this marriage will the prince be allowed to ascend to the throne."
Minho is too distracted to care about what's happening around him. He's more concerned for his crush, who evidently hasn't slept properly for at least a week. He wishes he could force Jisung to prioritise his health. It hurts his heart to see how much greyer and larger his eyebags are becoming, and how Jisung seems to be nodding off every few seconds. His friends seem to be concerned, too, occasionally patting his shoulder to ask if he's all right. The tired smile they elicit from their friend is picturesque but also agonising to watch.
"The heir to the throne was originally Prince Chan, who abdicated from his position to pursue postgraduate music production studies at an unknown university. Our reporters have been unable to ask him for an interview about his reasons for abdication."
If only Minho had the strength to walk up to his crush and get to know him properly. He’d be content with just being friends. It might break his heart, but at least he’d be near Jisung.
“It is also suspected that the new heir is currently also studying at university level, although his major is also unknown. After his coronation, the king will have to assume all duties that have been left in the balance since the death of Queen Subin, which has left the monarchy unstable and reduced our country’s morale and reputation. New legislation may be passed by the government to forbid further abdications without the establishment of a clear, prepared heir.”
“Lee Minho!”
It’s not only Minho’s lack of confidence that is holding him back. He doesn’t consider himself a shy, antisocial person, but it was decided from his birth that he cannot be true to his nature in public.
“Minho!”
If things were different, Minho probably would have confessed a year ago when he first saw and fell for Jisung.
“Your Majesty!”
Minho snaps out of his stupor. He frowns, his skin beginning to prickle with anger and shame.
“I told you not to call me that, Seungmin,” he mutters, fixing his friend with a glare.
Seungmin and Hyunjin are sitting across from him, both wearing the same irritated, disapproving scowl. Minho knows that they’ve been staring at him like this ever since Minho started staring at his crush.
Hyunjin sighs. “We called your name multiple times, you lovesick idiot.”
“Could you be any more obvious? You’ll burn a hole through that guy,” Seungmin growls, jabbing a thumb in Jisung’s direction in a not-so-obvious manner.
Minho frowns at his friends-slash-bodyguards. He knows that they’re just concerned for him - as they have been ever since they discovered his feelings for a commoner - but their indiscreetness and strong opposition to Minho having a crush annoys him. It also hurts because he knows they’re right. It would never work out. His feelings are all just fantasies. It’s stupid to think he can confess. There would be no going further than that; Minho’s future love-life has been written for him. This is the curse that comes with royalty.
“We’ve been over this, Minho. I’m sorry, but nothing good will follow if you do what you’re thinking of doing. I know it’s unfair, but look -” Seungmin hisses, pointing at the large TV screen mounted on the wall at the end of the hall. The same news story has been broadcasted every day. “- it’s getting worse, Minho. You’re gaining more attention by the day. If I could change it, you know I would. But you’re going to have to stop all of this soon, Minho. You need to focus on your duty.”
Minho tears his eyes away from Jisung, whose head is now leaning on his friend Felix’s shoulder. He looks so tired. It just adds to Minho’s pain. Everything Seungmin said is true. No matter how much he hates his situation, he can’t keep delaying his return to power. The country’s - no, the world’s focus is on him. Everyone’s wondering who this young, anonymous prince is, and how he’ll repair his kingdom’s reputation. The more he delays, the worse his and his people’s prestige will get.
But doesn’t he deserve to be at least a little bit selfish?
“Yeah. You’re right,” he admits at last, his tone soft yet miserable.
His gaze is drawn back to Jisung. He’s filled with longing and despair, like the doomed lovers in ancient myths and tragedies. That is his life in a nutshell: a tragedy.
“But I like him too much,” Minho says under his breath, not intending for his friends to hear. Of course, they easily pick up his anguished words. He cringes under Hyunjin and Seungmin’s increasingly sympathetic yet critical stares.
“You need to think about stopping your dance studies, Minho. We need to go back to the capital. Mr. Park is also getting more uneasy because you keep delaying the engagement ceremony. You can’t wreck your relationship with him,” Hyunjin reminds the prince, his voice cautious and firm.
Minho absolutely despises how everything they’ve said is right.
He buries his face in his hands. He needs to get a grip, he knows. His mind and his heart are at war, and Minho knows this battle will never be won by either side.
“Just after we’re done with our final projects. They’re going to announce what we’re doing for our projects in tomorrow's lecture. Just let me finish this, and then I’ll do everything you want. I’ll become the perfect Prince Minho, just like how everyone expected from the day I started existing,” Minho mumbles.
The atmosphere hanging over their table becomes even more tense. None of them want this. They never dreamt that Minho would become the heir. If they’d known, Minho would never have come here and met Jisung. He would never have been dragged down by the weight of a doomed love.
“Drama queen,” Seungmin mutters, trying to put on a teasing, light-hearted act to cheer them up.
Hyunjin laughs emptily in response. His forced smile dies out quickly, having noticed how much more distressed his prince looks.
Minho slowly gets to his feet, rolling his head from side to side to rid himself of early-morning stiffness.
“I’m gonna go see Chan. He wanted to talk to me about something,” he announces, giving his friends a faint farewell smile.
Seungmin and Hyunjin get up, too, but Minho waves his hands dismissively.
“Don’t worry. I’m just going to the music studio. I’ll see you guys at the dorms later,” he says, turning away from them. He strides out of the cafeteria, his heart skipping several beats when he passes Jisung’s table. Jisung doesn't even glance at him, as expected. To him, Minho is just another insignificant student without the right to even talk to Jisung.
He wishes he could just snap his fingers and make his feelings disappear. At the same time, he doesn’t want to stop loving that adorable, sleep-deprived musician.
It’s a cruel dilemma that he can’t solve in a way that won’t scar him.
***
Minho doesn't bother knocking on the door to Chan's studio. It would have been useless anyway, since the musician doesn't even hear Minho's arrival, headphones drowning out the sound. Chan is hunched over his laptop, bobbing his head to a beat that probably belongs to some new song he's spent hours working on.
Minho taps the back of Chan's head to gain his attention. Chan jumps, scrambling to take off his headphones and confront whoever dared to knock on his skull like it was a door. Seeing that it is just his harmless little cousin, Chan's irritated expression softens.
"Oh, Minho. Hi," he says, his tone almost meek. Chan has contracted a habit of being unable to hold Minho's gaze for more than a few seconds.
Minho sighs, sitting on the couch beside Chan's desk. "Hey. You wanted to talk to me, right? Or were you too preoccupied with your songs to remember my existence?"
Chan chuckles weakly, rubbing his neck. “I just wanted to know how you’re doing, what with all the news and… stuff.”
“Stuff?” Minho asks, arching an eyebrow in suspicion.
Chan gulps nervously. Hesitantly, he replies, “You know… what are you planning to do? Like with y-your duties. And with your… feelings?”
Minho sighs again, rolling his eyes at his cousin’s tone and expression, both of which are literally dripping with guilt and remorse. He’s lost count of the amount of times Chan has fallen to his knees, clutched Minho’s hands, and apologised for everything: for running away and leaving Minho with the responsibility of becoming king after marrying someone who doesn’t want to marry him either. Minho knows that Chan’s shame has grown tenfold after the former let slip that he is in love with one of Chan’s mentees.
Minho leans his head back on the sofa’s cushions, studying the sick-coloured ceiling. He doesn’t want to keep looking at Chan’s tormented face because it makes him feel guilty, too. He doesn’t blame his cousin for anything, but that’s not what Chan thinks. Minho empathises with how Chan broke under the pressure of his birth, although he had that weight on his shoulders far longer than Minho has.
He’s not sure how to answer Chan. After all, any answer he gives will just make Chan feel more sorry.
“Hyunjin and Seungmin are saying I’ll have to give all of this up soon so that I can return and become the prince everyone needs. I’m gonna go back after I’m done with my final project and get my degree,” Minho says. He laughs dryly at the end of his sentence. “Well, I guess a degree in dance will be useless once I’m king, but at least I’ll have the memories.”
Minho notices how Chan flinches after finishing his last sentence. Minho exhales exasperatedly.
“As for my feelings, there’s nothing I can do about them. Everyone has said that nothing good will come out of trying to act on my feelings, and they’re right. It’s only a fantasy, something that’ll never work out,” Minho mumbles, feeling his throat constricting. “I guess I’d be happy just being friends. It’ll hurt like hell, but it’s a compromise.”
“I guess you have the idea that being friends is better than being strangers,” Chan murmurs. “I wouldn’t ever be able to live with that. You’re strong, Minho. And I’m… well, I’m just-”
Minho squeezes his eyes shut and groans, “God, please stop. Stop demeaning yourself for just a single minute, please. What’s done is done. I don’t want you to keep blaming and hating yourself. I understand why you ran. I’m not angry at you. This is just… life.”
They stay silent for a few moments. Finally, Chan lets out a huge sigh.
“Friends, huh?” he says under his breath. Minho frowns, about to ask Chan what he means to say, but Chan continues in a much lighter tone. “Well, my department head put me in charge of setting the terms for the music production students’ final projects. I think I’ve gotten everything planned out, so I just need confirmation from a few higher-ups. The kids will be in for a surprise.”
Minho scoffs. “That doesn’t sound too comforting. I’m worried for your ‘kids’.”
Chan smiles slyly, his previous self-degrading attitude fading away, to Minho’s relief. “I think you’ll be happy, too.”
“What do you mean?” Minho asks, narrowing his eyes at his cousin’s crypticness.
“You’ll see.”
Minho rolls his eyes at Chan’s annoying vagueness. “For some reason, I’m not looking forward to that.”
“Oh, don’t worry. This project will be bound to benefit everyone partaking in it,” Chan says casually, still with a glint of mischief in his gaze.
Minho snorts. “Sometimes, I have no idea what goes on in music production students’ heads.”
Chan chuckles in response. “You’ll find out soon.”
***
There are times when Minho wonders why the hell he loves dance so much.
His class was made to practise the whole day, forced to stay until they memorised every step of the choreography that had just been assigned this morning. Even Minho, the star student out of the entire cohort, was unable to meet his coach's expectations. Minho's only flaw, according to his teachers, is that he can't accept what he defines as 'defeat', and will therefore train until he succeeds, pushing his body to the limit.
That explains why Minho is still here in the dance studio at three in the morning.
He's a sweaty, wheezing mess, but he still refuses to give up. He just needs to master the last few moves, and only then will he let himself leave and crawl into bed. He stares at himself in the mirror, meeting his own furious, fiery glare. He doesn't like his face, not because he thinks he's ugly (quite the opposite, in fact). It's because he dreads the day when it will be revealed to the world, not as Lee Minho, the hopeless dancer, but as Lee Minho, the hopeless king-to-be. It's this bout of misery that fuels him, pouring into his aching limbs, urging them to work the way his teachers want.
He manages to perfect his dance an hour later. It's now four o'clock. Minho is ready to limp back to the dorms, shower, cry, and then sleep for two hours in time for an early morning lecture - not necessarily in that particular order. He grabs a towel and buries his sweaty face in it, rubbing his skin raw. He realises that he will probably get a massive scolding from Seungmin and Hyunjin when he returns this late - or early, he guesses. He's too tired to be scared of them, so that's good.
He drags himself out of the dance studio, wondering if he should just sleep here. The floor seems nice, although maybe that's the sleep deprivation and agony talking.
He screams as he trips over a body collapsed in the corridor.
He falls on his butt, panting heavily out of fear. He reluctantly looks at the corpse. He gasps. This is no corpse.
Jisung is sprawled on the ground, his mouth slightly open, allowing a puddle of drool to form on the floor. Minho rubs his own eyes, wondering if he's hallucinating because he's so exhausted. He pokes Jisung gently, praying that his crush is still alive. To his relief, Jisung stirs, although he doesn't wake up fully. He groans quietly, eyelids fluttering. Minho sighs. He keeps saying that Jisung needs to take care of himself more. This is what happens: adopting the corridor between the music and dance studios as his bed. Minho realises he's a hypocrite for thinking this, seeing how he's still here at this ungodly hour. They all need self-care.
"Jisung," Minho says softly, patting the boy's arm. "Jisung, you need to get up."
Jisung groans again, incoherent. Minho can only make out an irritated, "Go away."
Minho narrows his eyes. There's no way he's going to abandon the guy he's in love with. He takes a deep breath, knowing that what he's about to do will kill him mentally and physically considering his current state. He slips an arm under Jisung's upper back, lifting him into a semi-sitting position. He slides another arm under Jisung's knees. He inhales sharply, realising that he's never been so close to his crush - and that everything fucking hurts more than he expected. He picks Jisung up bridal-style. That wakes Jisung up.
"What the hell?" Jisung mumbles, staring at Minho with groggy eyes.
Minho gives him a soft smile. "You were fast asleep in the corridor. I'm taking you to the dorms."
Jisung blinks slowly, his half-asleep brain gradually processing Minho's brief explanation. Minho tries his best not to blush at Jisung's adorable confused expression. He starts walking.
"What time is it?" Jisung asks, his voice gravelly.
"Around four. In the morning, that is."
Jisung blinks again. Minho stifles an embarrassing squeal of adoration. He’s getting dangerously close to exploding.
"Why are you still here? You're never in the dance studio this late. Late? Early? I don't know," Jisung rambles.
Minho splutters in surprise. "You know who I am?"
Jisung nods and hums in confirmation like it's obvious. "Lee Minho, right? You're the best dancer in your department. You're friends with Chan, too. Of course I know you."
Minho is definitely blushing. So it turns out that his crush actually knows he exists. He knows his name. He knows his reputation. He knows Chan.
Oh.
If one of the reasons he knows Minho is because of Chan, why did Chan and Jisung discuss stuff about Minho? What has Chan said? How far has he gone? Oh, god. If Jisung knows…
Minho clears his throat, trying to quash his anxieties. Jisung taps Minho's shoulder.
"I can walk," he states. Minho gulps, realising that there was really no need to carry a grown man like a baby. It was nice while it lasted, though.
He nods and lets Jisung down. Jisung stumbles a little, leading Minho to grab his arms to steady him. Jisung laughs, the sound making Minho's heart flutter.
"Thanks," Jisung giggles. "It felt nice to be carried like that for the first time in probably twenty years."
Minho laughs. "If you want to experience that again, don't hesitate to ask."
Minho cringes internally. That was such a strange, creepy thing to suggest. Of course Jisung wouldn't want to relive such an experience.
"Sure!" Jisung says cheerfully. His energy levels seem to have rocketed in the span of two minutes. Jisung gasps, making Minho turn to face him sharply. Did he do something wrong? Jisung rubs his neck like he's ashamed. "Um, I said I know you, but, uh, do you know who I am?"
Minho sighs in relief. He grins. "Of course. You're a music producing prodigy. Han Jisung."
Jisung chuckles, turning pink. He also looks relieved that Minho knows him.
"You haven't listened to anything I've made," Jisung says with a dramatic eye-roll.
Minho scoffs. "Chan's words. You're his favourite mentee."
Jisung smirks in a fake-smug way. "I'm everyone's favourite."
Yeah, he definitely is, Minho thinks.
"I hope I'll get to listen to your songs one day. Maybe even dance to them," Minho says, shrugging. He almost winces as soon as those words slip out of his mouth. He sounds like such a creep.
Thankfully, Jisung only smiles and nods enthusiastically. Minho smiles back.
"I'd love for such a great dancer to perform to my songs. You guys, especially you, are actually my inspiration, you know," Jisung remarks.
Minho does a double take. "Huh?"
"When you dance, it's like you're making music with your body. It's beautiful," Jisung replies.
Minho really feels like he might explode. Dying after being called beautiful by his crush wouldn't be too bad.
"Um, thanks," Minho murmurs.
Jisung grins, his smile lighting up the darkness of the early morning environment. Minho almost sighs in admiration. Jisung comes to a stop, taking Minho aback. Belatedly, Minho realises that they've already reached their dorms. He feels disappointed. It's like he's spent only a few seconds with Jisung. It's not enough. After this, he and Jisung will be strangers again. They might see each other around, but they won't get to talk like this. Minho's mood plummets. To his surprise, Jisung turns to look at Minho, flashing him a genuinely thankful grin.
"Thanks for walking me back, Minho. Also, thank you for waking me up before someone else tripped over me," he says with a little chuckle.
Minho gulps nervously. "Oh, it's okay. I just did what anyone else would do. And anyway, we live in the same block."
Jisung laughs louder this time, shaking his head. "Nah, anyone else would have left me there or stolen anything they could find on me. As thanks, would you like to have lunch with me tomorrow? It'll be on me."
Minho blinks slowly for a few moments. Jisung wants to see him again? Did Minho pass out at the dance studio? He dreads the possibility that this is all a dream. He doesn't want to wake up from it. He decides to nod enthusiastically. He won't waste this chance to hang out with his crush, even if this is just a dream.
"Sure! I'd love to," Minho says sincerely. God, how he'd love to have lunch with this man.
Jisung grins again, somehow seeming even happier than before. Minho really might melt. Jisung starts to fish through his jeans’ pockets. He finally pulls out a very crumpled card, and hands it to Minho, who takes it like it's a medal of honour. The card is simple yet professional, displaying Jisung’s full name and phone number in neat, blue print. Minho wonders how many of these cards Jisung has given out to potential employers or commissioners. He hopes that one day, Jisung will get a call back saying that his music is great enough to sign him with a company.
"Sorry that the card’s almost disintegrating," Jisung apologises with an embarrassed laugh. "You can text me when you're free tomorrow."
Minho nods, lost for words. His crush has asked him out for lunch and given him his number. No, this has to be a dream.
"See you tomorrow, Minho!" Jisung calls with a small wave before heading inside the building.
Minho is left with his mouth semi-open, still holding Jisung's card. Minho has just been given the opportunity to get closer to Jisung, and he's going to take it no matter what.
***
"Lee Minho, you bastard, why did you stay there for so long? It's unhealthy and stupid! Take today off before you get ill!"
Minho groans, burying his face in his pillow. He doesn't have the energy to react to Seungmin's irritating yet admittedly logical scolding. Minho is generally a morning person, but all the intense training and the events that had just occurred a few hours ago has drained him of life. He’s also only gotten two hours of sleep. Now he’s got class.
The only thing that’s giving him the will to crawl out of bed is the fact that he is going to have lunch with Han Jisung. Somehow, it turned out that he hadn’t dreamt up the dream encounter with Jisung. Minho confirmed that when he reread the brief text conversation he’d had with Jisung.
Jisung: hey there, my hero! I was thinking we could go that kbbq place near the library?
Minho: Sure! Time?
Jisung: my classes finish at 12, so maybe meet 12:30?
Minho: Okay cool. See you there!
Jisung: K, see you hyung! ;)
Minho can’t help but grin as he reads the few short messages over and over again. Jisung called him ‘hyung’ and his hero. Minho knows it’s just a light-hearted joke, but it makes him feel so giddy. The little wink face Jisung added at the end makes it all even better. Minho is fawning over the tiniest details like an idiot, although it at least gives him the energy he needs to start his morning routine and face the next few hours until his little lunch session with Jisung. This is definitely not a date. Definitely. This is just Minho’s wishful thinking. Let him wish.
After he’s done cleaning himself up and changing into some of his more ‘appealing’ clothes (meaning anything that isn’t a hoodie and sweatpants, both of which make up ninety percent of his wardrobe), he drags himself to the living room where Seungmin and Hyunjin are draped over the sofa, both of them looking exhausted and dead inside. Minho is almost done with buttoning his shirt when Seungmin jumps to his feet and scrutinises the prince. Hyunjin doesn’t bother getting up, but he does give Minho a suspicious frown.
“I didn’t hear an answer to my question, Lee Minho. Why were you at the studio for so long? You’re too tired to go to class now. Just stay home and rest,” Seungmin orders in a firm yet concerned tone.
Minho rolls his eyes, brushing his hands down his shirt to straighten out the crinkles. “I’m completely fine. I was practising a move that I couldn’t get right yesterday. I feel a lot better now that I’ve got it perfect. Also, you guys look more terrible than me. You should rest today.”
Hyunjin scoffs. “The reason why we feel like shit is because you didn’t come home on time, so we had to stay up until you came back. And neither of us were bothered to come get you. And you didn’t answer your phone, idiot.”
“Sorry, but if you feel like shit, just stay home. Today’s pretty uneventful anyway. I’ve just got one class and then I’m gonna go see Chan for a bit,” Minho says nonchalantly, praying that neither of his friends detect his lie. He keeps his voice steady and casual.
Seungmin scowls at him, replying, “It sounds like you’re trying to get rid of us.”
Minho swallows, trying his best to hide his nervousness. He laughs to cover up his anxiety. Seungmin is too observant for his own good, which is great for his bodyguard role, but bad when Minho doesn’t want his friend to notice his intentions. In comparison, Hyunjin is a lot less suspicious than Seungmin - still over-protective, but he at least acknowledges the existence of Minho’s privacy.
“Fine. You better come back before sunset, though, or we’ll hunt you down and murder you, okay? Answer your phone, too. If you don’t reply within two minutes of us texting you, we will come and drag you back home by your hair,” Hyunjin growls, weakly wagging a finger at Minho. When Seungmin sends Hyunjin a sharp glare, the latter sighs and waves his hand dismissively. “It’s fine, Seungmin. I wanna sleep. You wanna sleep. Let’s sleep.”
Seungmin hesitates for a few moments, glaring at both Minho and Hyunjin. Finally, he sighs heavily and falls back onto the sofa, leaning his head against the cushions. Hyunjin swings his legs over Seungmin’s lap. Surprisingly, Seungmin doesn’t shove him away and hit him like he usually does, indicating how exhausted he must be. Minho almost regrets not coming back earlier, but it was worth staying and meeting Jisung. He silently apologises to his friends.
“I’ll be back soon, don’t worry. Enjoy your sleep,” Minho says, grabbing his keys and swinging his bag over his shoulder.
They exchange weak goodbyes as Minho leaves.
***
Minho can barely focus during his lecture. The first half is just theory and going over the choreography instructions again, with his teacher criticising most of the class for their lousy dance yesterday. The second half consists of going to the dance studio to redo the steps that everyone struggled with last time. Minho is thankful that he had spent so long perfecting the choreography last night and this early morning as his instructor seems to be particularly pissed off today. He’s been picking each student apart one by one, critiquing every little mistake. Only Minho avoids the wrath of his teacher. It would have been easier if he’d worn his usual sweatpants and hoodie instead of a button-down and tight denim jeans, but he still pulls off the entire dance, leaving his class and coach in watered-down awe. This would usually be enough to boost Minho’s mood, but he’s just feeling fidgety and impatient, wishing for time to go faster. Jisung is all he can think about. He needs to see him.
Then, he sees Jisung.
For a few moments, Minho fears that he’s hallucinating. Maybe his overexcitement has fried his brain, or maybe this was a dream all along. It’s only when his dance instructor greets Chan, who is leading a long line of music producing students and second-year dance undergraduates into the studio, that Minho realises - to his pure relief and glee - that his crush is really here. His relief is quickly wiped away when he makes eye contact with a worried-looking Chan. The instructor orders everyone to sit down and face Chan. Minho can’t help but glance at Jisung every few seconds, hoping to catch his eye. To Minho’s disappointment, Jisung is busy whispering to his friends, Changbin and Felix. The trio look just as confused as Minho feels.
Everyone shuts up when the dance instructor screams at them to listen to Chan. Chan looks slightly nervous, which in turn makes Minho feel impossibly more nervous, too.
Chan clears his throat and addresses the fifty or so students crammed inside the studio. The tension in the room rises exponentially as everyone anticipates his explanation for this weird crossover of departments.
“So, uh, hi everyone! My name’s Chan, although some of you probably know that already…” Chan starts, his voice weak and trailing off. His face and neck is red, and it isn’t helping that he’s relentlessly rubbing his neck out of nervousness. “But anyway, I’m here to explain what you guys are gonna do for your final projects. As you can see, it’ll involve the music producing and dance students from the first, second and third years working together. Basically, we’re going to put you into groups that’ll consist of two dancers and three music producers, and each group will be mentored by me and the teachers. We’re involving first and second-years so that they can get more experience and advice from the older members, and so that the older members have a chance to take a leadership role in mentoring the younger students. This is a really great opportunity to develop your teamwork skills and just have fun working with another department. You get to make new friends, too.”
Oh, now Minho gets it.
He wishes he was telepathic so that he could convey a big, massive ‘fuck you’ to Chan.
Chan continues, sounding a bit more confident, which makes Minho want to punch him. Chan is conveniently avoiding all eye contact with his cousin now.
“As for what you’re actually doing, I think it’s pretty self-explanatory. Each group is going to produce an original song and choreograph an original dance to go with it, based on an allocated theme. This project will last until the end of term, so you’ve got almost three months to work on it. At the end, each group will present their final song and accompanying dance, and they’ll be traditionally graded for it. We’re in the middle of organising a showcase, too, where we might get some scouts from the ‘big’ companies attending and judging. Who knows, some of you might get offers to audition? As you can see, this project is extremely important and could quite possibly change your lives.”
It’s the last part that really irks Minho. Yeah, this project will change his life. It’ll change it for the worse. He’ll just be fed more false hope, only for his dreams to be crushed again after the project is over. It’s not just his fantasies with Jisung that will be destroyed; his dreams of dancing and getting signed to one of the biggest entertainment companies will never happen. He’ll just be teased and baited by these useless hopes, and it’ll make him even more miserable.
Chan cuts off the hushed babbling that has spread amongst the students with a sharp clear of his throat.
“I’ll assign groups now. Once you’re in your groups, you’ll be given a theme for your project,” Chan declares.
Minho’s eye twitches in fury. He can’t ever hate Chan, but that doesn’t mean that he isn’t on the verge of pouncing on his cousin and screaming about how stupid this whole idea is. His ears are ringing, so he can’t quite catch the names that Chan is reading out. Minho already knows who he’s going to be working with, so it doesn’t matter if he doesn’t hear his name. He just needs to keep an eye on Han Jisung.
“Lee Minho.”
The ringing stops as soon as Chan utters his name. Chan gives him a brief, wary glance. He looks a bit apologetic but also frustratingly smug. Minho really wants to slap him.
“Han Jisung.”
God fucking damn it.
“Lee Felix.”
Minho’s gaze trails towards Jisung and his friends, who haven’t been assigned to a group yet. That can only mean one thing.
“Seo Changbin.”
Minho watches Jisung exchange a delighted fist-bump with his buff, grinning friend. Changbin has one arm around Felix’s shoulders, ruffling the boy’s blond hair affectionately in celebration.
“Yang Jeongin.”
Jisung, Changbin and Felix gasp in elation, immediately pouncing on a baby-faced, terrified-looking boy. They smother him in a group hug and peck his bleached-white hair with exaggeratedly loud kisses. Minho probably would have grinned at the sight of Jeongin being suffocated and babied by his friends if not for the impending shitstorm to come.
They’re the last group to be formed. Chan walks over to Minho, tense and cautious as if he’s worried that Minho will lose all self-control and just deck the ex-heir in the face. Minho guesses Chan should be worried. That really might happen.
“So, Minho. You excited?” Chan chirps half-heartedly, giving Minho a timid smile.
Jisung and his friends are too close to Minho and Chan, so Minho can’t speak his mind right now. He swears that once he and Chan are alone, Minho will let everything out, even if it results in Chan getting his jaw broken. Minho has never been this angry with his cousin before. He knows that Chan thinks this is a good deed: something that Minho will enjoy (and maybe he will), but nothing good will come out of this.
Minho grits his teeth, and opts for a simple, blunt reply. “ Very excited. Thank you, Chan.”
Chan laughs emptily, patting Minho’s back. He guides Minho over to his group. Jisung notices him first, flashing him a massive, blindingly bright grin in greeting.
“Hey, Minho! I didn’t think I’d see you this early. It’s a massive coincidence, isn’t it?” Jisung remarks in a cheerful tone. Minho doesn’t detect any hint of suspicion or sarcasm in Jisung’s demeanour, which gives him a slight sense of comfort. Jisung really believes their pairing is all due to chance. Well, it is due to chance, if ‘chance’ lacked the last two letters.
Minho laughs in response. “Yeah, what a coincidence.”
Jisung ushers his friends closer to Chan and Minho. He introduces each of his friends to Minho, despite the latter already knowing all of them. He pretends that this is the first time he’s ever learned their names, greeting them respectfully. They’re all really friendly and welcoming. Minho would have preferred them to be colder. He can already feel himself starting to get emotionally attached to them. Their familial bond is drawing him in. This is dangerous.
“So, I’ll tell you your theme now,” Chan announces. He pauses for a few seconds, like he’s building up the courage to speak. Minho dreads his next words. “Confession.”
Minho almost chokes. In a strained voice, he echoes, “Confession?”
Chan nods. “Not just any confession. You’re deeply in love with someone even when you feel that you can’t have them, but you can’t bottle up those feelings anymore. You can’t help but love them. This song and performance will convey these feelings in one emotional, painful confession.”
The group is silent. Minho’s mouth is hanging open. Did Chan just indirectly bare Minho’s innermost feelings in front of his crush? Yeah. Yeah, he fucking did.
Changbin snorts suddenly, folding his arms. He gives Chan a smug grin.
“That was oddly specific, Channie. Are you speaking from experience, hyung? Are you just using this project as an excuse for us to create an amazing confession song for your crush?” Changbin teases.
Chan rolls his eyes. “Not my experience.”
“Ooh, so there’s someone who actually feels this way? Wow, that must really suck,” Felix remarks in a pitying tone. Minho almost nods in agreement. It really does suck.
“Ugh, it’s such a sappy theme, hyung,” Jeongin whines, poking Chan in the chest. Chan laughs in response, ruffling the younger boy’s hair.
“Okay. We’ll make an amazing song and an amazing dance for this person. We’ll help them confess,” Jisung declares with confidence and sincerity. Minho’s heart flutters. If only Jisung knew who this person is, and who their confession is for.
Chan claps his hands. “Brilliant! Well, I’m sure you guys will get on really well. I’m rooting for you in particular.”
He whispers the last part, even though they’re the only ones left in the dance studio.
Jeongin hisses back mockingly, “Oh, my god, hyung. You can’t play favourites here!”
“You’ll always be my favourite, Innie,” Chan squeals, squishing Jeongin’s face.
Minho is too distracted by his self-pity, dread and hopelessness to notice the person approaching him.
“You okay?”
Minho jumps in surprise. Jisung is standing before him, fixing him with a concerned frown. Minho gulps. He and Jisung have been closer than this before, but the after effects of this whole predetermined event just makes everything more awkward.
Minho nods slowly. “Yeah. Sorry, just tired.”
Jisung laughs with a little nod, replying, “Yeah, understandable. I’m running on caffeine. I need food soon, though. KBBQ next?”
Minho nods, this time with more vigour. “Sure. Are your friends coming?”
Jisung hesitates for a few moments before raising his voice slightly. “Hey guys, do you wanna come eat with me and Minho?”
“Did I hear KBBQ?” Changbin gasps. “Definitely, in that case.”
“This is a chance to bond as a team and get some ideas together, too,” Felix suggests cheerfully.
“And eat. Eating would be nice,” Jeongin mutters.
Before anyone can ask Chan to join them, he’s already exiting the studio.
“I have stuff to do, so bye! Enjoy your lunch!” he exclaims hastily. Minho can tell he’s trying to avoid him. It’s okay for now. Minho will find him soon, and then he’ll kill him. Food first, though.
The excitement that had been fuelling Minho all morning has now been replaced by pure dread. He’s been given a chance to get closer to his crush, but this is an opportunity that could go too far. They’re making Minho’s confession. This whole thing will just break his heart.
Somehow, Minho isn’t hating it as much as he should.