The red and blue lights illuminated Seungyoon’s face as he stared out the window. Mino was quiet, the anger he’d displayed before having flickered out, replaced by shame.

Served him right, Seungyoon couldn’t say he felt sorry for the other man; at least not when he was about to find himself ticked off on the criminal records, again.

“You’re a ing idiot.” He stated as a matter of fact, glancing back.

Mino didn’t respond, turning his whole body away from Seungyoon. The lights from the city flickered by them, casting dark shadows against Mino’s tanned skin. Seungyoon could see the tenseness in his jaw, and almost wanted to punch his, questionably, best friend for even daring to still be somewhat pissed.

“A ing idiot,” he repeated, facing the window.

Time, like the entire night, dragged on. Despite the lack of traffic, much less the lack of people on the streets, the car hadn’t seemed to make any progress after their arrest. In fact, Seungyoon felt as if they’d been stuck on the same road for hours.

Whether the punch from earlier had jogged his memory, Seungyoon didn’t remember if the police station had changed location. But then again, he wouldn’t be able to know since he’d made a promise never get close to that wretched building ever again.

So much for New Year’s resolutions, he couldn’t even go two months without being dragged into a fight.

“Look, I didn’t-“

“No,” Seungyoon interrupted, turning to glare daggers at him. “No, you look here. Don’t come up with any bull excuses, because I was there. I saw what happened, and all that matters is that you’re an idiot.”

Mino had the decency to face him this time, showing an impressive glare of his own. If he’d been somewhat pissed before, he was livid now.

Seungyoon recognized that expression though, he’d seen it one too many times to be fazed. Whatever Mino threw at him, he wouldn’t be deterred in the slightest.

“Who in their right mind makes out with someone who happens to be dating a crazy, possessive, ?”

“I didn’t know-“

“Oh, you knew. You knew all along, but you still did it, because you can only think with your .”

One of the policemen, the one in the passenger seat, stifled a laugh. Seungyoon shot him a withering stare, causing him to clamp up. He was already on his way to a cold dirty cell, he might as well destroy what little was left of his night.

Mino sighed, gaining his attention. The fight that had been burning in his eyes finally died down, morphing into exhaustion.

“Okay,” he said, holding up his hands. “You’re right. It was my fault.”

“As usual,” Seungyoon muttered, crossing his arms.

He wasn’t going to lie though; he didn’t have the energy to continue bickering, let alone stay mad at Mino. They sat there in silence, less tense than before yet not quite shared, as the city drifted by them.

The city, how Seungyoon both loved and detested it.

The tall buildings that stretched for miles up into the skies, filled with nothing but corporate slaves that Seungyoon wanted nothing to do with; yet still found himself enthralled with them every time he passed by. The grimy alleys that stank with hopelessness from confused adolescents that felt the whole world had betrayed them, yet they still sang their hearts out with such passion whenever Seungyoon performed with his band onstage.

The city, where dreams were born and killed.

Seungyoon wanted to believe he was still dreaming. But with each day acting as a reminder of the harsh reality, he wondered if his dream was actually dying.

“Was it worth it?” He asked, gazing at the city lights.

He felt Mino’s gaze, not questioning, just, contemplating.

“Yeah,” he whispered, placing a heavy hand on Seungyoon’s shoulder.

He smiled a small smile. Seungyoon couldn’t help but smile with him. The silence felt a lot calmer.

 “I mean, she was pretty hot.”

Seungyoon scoffed, shrugging off Mino’s hand, yet the smile was still present on his lips.

The car came to a stop. The police station loomed over them, grey bland building reflecting what was to come. Both policemen exited the vehicle, the one in the passenger seat moving to stand next to Seungyoon’s door.

“Hey, watch it!” Mino protested as he was hauled out of the car.

Seungyoon followed suit, not putting up a fight while the policeman pushed him towards the station’s main entrance. Unlike Mino, Seungyoon wanted nothing more than for the night to end.

The inside of the station was almost empty, save for a few people working the offices. There weren’t that many arrests either, which made the visit all the more embarrassing for Seungyoon.

Mino didn’t seem to be bothered by that notion, too busy arguing about bad treatment and how much his jacket cost and how he was going to file a complaint.

The thought of Mino actually sitting down to file anything almost had Seungyoon chuckling, almost if it weren’t for the fact that he was at a police station.

“Alright boys,” an officer sighed, striding towards them, “your name, please.”

He held an open pad in his hand, tapping his pen against the paper. Seungyoon suppressed the urge to lie as he answered with his name. The officer hurried to write it down, not even bothering to take a look at Mino, who was still ranting, before snapping the pad shut.

“Song Mino isn’t much of a stranger around here,” he clarified as he led them to their holding cell. “His record is, as strangely impressive as it sounds, unbeatable.”

Once they reached their holding cell, Mino being the first to enter with his head held high, the officer gave Seungyoon a pat on the back.

“You seriously ought to get new friends.”

“Believe me,” Seungyoon responded in exhaustion. “I’ve tried.”

He followed Mino into the cell, not missing the sympathetic look the officer sent him, which only served to make him feel even more pathetic. The door shut behind them with a loud clang.

“What a hole,” Mino complained, eyeing the dusty bench. “You’d think they’d renovate the place at least once.”

“I’m surprised you haven’t gotten used to it,” Seungyoon fired back, plopping down on the bench while ignoring the dubious stains on it.

“Just because I’m here a lot, doesn’t mean I can’t complain about some basic treatment.”

“Never said you couldn’t, and I don’t think you’re in any position to ask for basic treatment.”

Mino snorted, joining Seungyoon on the bench. The space was tight for two men, forcing the two to sit almost glued to each other’s sides, knees bumping into one another. Seungyoon wasn’t concerned by the touch though. He’d gotten used to that a long time ago. After all, the holding cell closely resembled their living quarters, too cramped and not designed for five adolescents trying to find a reason in an unforgiving world.

If the filthy bench were to be switched out with bunk beds, the gross toilet were to be placed in another separate tiny room with an equally gross shower, and plenty of bottles not to mention cigarette butts strewn across the floor were added to the picture, Seungyoon could’ve called it home.

“You think they’re gonna come get us?” Mino wondered, looking up at the low ceiling.

“Nope,” Seungyoon replied, popping the ‘p’.

He caught the brief smirk on Mino’s lips from the corner of his eye. “Yeah, you’re probably right.”

“I’m always right.”

Mino turned to look at him, an eyebrow arched. “You really believe that?”

Seungyoon was about to answer, only to press his lips into a tight line. He averted his eyes to his hands, inspecting the calluses on his fingers. Years and years of practice, of blood, sweat and tears being shed.

Clichés aside, Seungyoon had to be right, always.

Out of all his failed, fake values, being right was the one thing he could be certain of. If not, then everything he’d done up till now would’ve been for nothing. This life, this lifestyle, this dream of his, he had to be right.

“Of course,” he answered, peering at Mino. “I don’t have any reason not to believe it?”

“How come?”

“Your ups are enough to prove I’m right.”

Mino chuckled at that, shaking his head. The amount of times Seungyoon had had to bail him out in the middle of the night or at the crack of dawn would’ve made any sane person feel horrible, feel that it was time to change.

But Mino had never been sane, nor had he been normal in any sense. He was a complete up, and he continued being one because that was the only thing he could be good at, and Seungyoon knew that.

Seungyoon knew; which was why he kept on putting up with him instead of kicking him out of the band, out of his life. Meeting Seungyoon, agreeing to join the band, might have been the one time Mino hadn’t ed up.

“But seriously,” Mino said, leaning his head on Seungyoon’s shoulder. “Someone’s gotta come, right?”

Seungyoon hummed in agreement, the sound soothing in the quiet cell.

“I bet Seunghoon will.”

“But he’s injured.”

“So?”

Mino grinned, burying his face in the crook of his neck. “You have a point.”

Seunghoon was injured, but if Seungyoon knew his childhood friend right, which he did, he’d be the most likely to bail them out. Taehyun was still playing “spin the bottle” with himself, and he wasn’t going to stop any sooner, if Seungyoon knew him right, which he did. Jinwoo was out of the question, he hadn’t seen the other man leave the roof unless they had a performance, and this was in no way a performance.

“We’re really messed up,” he whispered.

“That’s why we’re stuck together,” Mino said, his breath hot against Seungyoon’s skin, “because we’re all fifty shades of ed up.”

Seungyoon let out a short laugh. “I didn’t know you were into that.”

“I’m not, but it explains our situation pretty damn well, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah, it does.”

Mino yawned, pulling away from Seungyoon as he leant his head against the wall. The sound alerted Seungyoon of the time, which he had completely forgotten about. He craned his neck, trying to spot a clock outside of the cell.

As he spotted the device counting down the minutes, Seungyoon yawned himself. It was way too late.

Mino groaned, closing his eyes. “Is tomorrow never going to come?”

Seungyoon wasn’t sure if he was addressing their current situation, or their current situation. Whether he meant the former or the latter, Seungyoon had an answer for both. For the former, all they could do was to wait until Seunghoon arrived or the officer declared them free to go.

For the latter, when it came to people like them, in the end, there were no tomorrows.

He didn’t answer Mino’s question though, opting to lean his head on his shoulder. Mino didn’t push for an answer either, letting him rest instead. They didn’t need answers, not when their lives were mostly questions and assumptions.

That’s what Seungyoon liked about Mino, even though he’d never say it out loud for the other man to hear.

“Am I interrupting something?”

Seungyoon jolted awake. He blinked a couple times; unsure of where he was before it dawned on him that he was still in the holding cell. Mino stirred next to him, rubbing his eyes.

Despite the sunglasses, Seungyoon could see the questionable look Seunghoon was aiming their way. He shrugged, standing up and stretching his stiff limbs.

From this angle, the clock was more visible. Even though there hadn’t been much time that had passed since Seungyoon last looked at it, he was surprised that he’d managed to catch some sleep.

“Took your time,” Mino muttered, voice gravelly.

“Hello to you too, Mino,” Seunghoon drawled. “And thank you, too.”

The officer stood beside him, looking like a child compared to the taller man. He unlocked the door, ushering them out of the cell while mumbling about troublemakers and rebel youth and new friends.

Seunghoon limped behind them, crutches squeaking against the station’s polished floor. The officer shot him an apologetic look as he slowed down his pace until they reached the main entrance. He even went as far as holding the door for Seunghoon, who thanked him before hobbling out on the street while followed suit by Mino and Seungyoon.

“Why do you have to make that man’s life so difficult?” He asked Mino once the officer was gone from sight.

“Because I’m a terrible person,” Mino retorted.

“Still,” Seunghoon said, “you don’t have to be that terrible.”

“I’m afraid that’s impossible,” Seungyoon interjected.

He hurried to change the topic before Mino could respond. “How did you get here so fast?”

Seunghoon lowered his sunglasses with one hand, expression telling Seungyoon that he should know the answer himself. Seungyoon wasn’t in the mood for being mocked though. He repeated the question, putting a little force behind each word, while crossing his arms.

“Jinwoo drove us here,” was the answer he received, while Seunghoon his heel and staggered off in the direction of a lone car parked near the street.

Seungyoon paused, confused. Jinwoo, how was that possible? And who was ‘us’? He watched as Seunghoon knocked on the car window, saw how Taehyun rolled down the window and Jinwoo sitting in the driver’s seat staring at the city.  

“I was wrong,” Seungyoon whispered, feeling as though his world was crumbling.

He’d been wrong, and once he was wrong, he’d always be wrong.

Mino grabbed his hand. Seungyoon had nearly forgotten about the other man’s presence, but the touch was somewhat able to keep him grounded, to keep him from breaking.

“Sometimes,” he said, tightening his grip a little. “Being wrong isn’t such a bad thing.”

He didn’t wait for a response, leading Seungyoon towards the car. As they got closer, Seungyoon saw how Taehyun snorted at Seunghoon’s antics, saw the briefest flickers of a smile on Jinwoo’s lips.

This ragtag group of misfits, this band of stray dogs that Seungyoon didn’t dare voice his love for. How could he ever have doubted them, assumed that he was right about them?

“You’re still our fearless leader,” Mino stated, locking eyes with him while smiling widely.

Seungyoon felt his world reassemble itself, turning into something new, something else. He was still in building mode; still learning as the days went by, still trying to figure out who he was.

But at least he knew for sure. There were no tomorrows, but that didn’t matter. What mattered was today, and nothing else.