Sidenote: Highschool-sweetheart-first-love-unexpected-reunion major trope ahead, I'm all for cliches! Also lots of cameos from the rest of the boys, hopefully. I hope it's a fun read!

“I’m getting married.” Seunghoon laughed lightly through the line.

It had been years since Minho heard from him last, certainly not expecting such thing from a random call on a late July afternoon.

All he could do was laugh in return, running his hand over his face as he slouched down on the sofa of his cramped studio apartment.

“Are you serious?” Minho smiled wistfully, “God, how long has it been?”

“Remember our promise, Minho. I better see you back here.” Seunghoon’s voice cracked through the call, warm and happy, just as Minho had always remembered him to be.

“I know, I know.” Minho sighed and rolled his teeth over his lip, a mix of dread and excitement b in his chest.

Not over the fact that the abrupt news meant that he would really be the last out of the five of them. Everyone he knew foresaw it, his mother being the one strongly against it all eventually came into terms with how Minho would never settle down, not anytime soon at least.

However, it was how he had to go back. Minho couldn’t bring himself to call the small town home when he was the one that abandoned it and never, not once, looked back. Flashes of an eighteen-year-old version of himself, overloaded with impossible hopes and dreams, flipped through the back of his head as he recalled a fleeting conversation of two bestfriends.

“You’re really going to do it, huh?” Seunghoon quizzed, his long legs taking turns in kicking a pebble as the two boys strolled aimlessly. It was the last day of senior year.

Minho could only nod, humming in agreement and stuffed his hands further into the pockets of his jeans.

“How about your parents?”

“My father’s ‘bout to kick me out, anyway.” A scoff left Minho, smiling toward empty space and Seunghoon jabbed an elbow to his side knowingly.

“He knows this town’s got nothing for you, Minho.” It was a subtle reassurance from Seunghoon, opting to leave mentions of Minho’s mother because he knew that she hadn’t spoken to her son in days.

“Hm. I suppose.” Minho shruged meekly, still staring at nothing in particular with his head up in the clouds.

“Well, you sure look ing thrilled.”

Seunghoon caught a faint smile curling across his bestfriend’s face, though anyone could tell that Minho was far from alright.

“I’ll come visit.” Minho halted suddenly, thick brows raised as he uttered out his statement. Seunghoon snorted, well aware that Minho was saying it only to make himself rid of the guilt of leaving this damned place.

For the many years he had come to know Minho, it was the only thing he ever wanted for himself and lately it was all he could talk about. Seunghoon had always seen Minho as the odd one out of the bunch, the risk taker, the most stubborn. The undying comfort that their small town could offer disturbed him, crawled under his skin like fiery ants.  Minho wanted something more.

“I don’t believe you, but I’ll hold your word for it, Song. Remember you’re my best man at the wedding.” Seunghoon threw a soft punch to his shoulder and for the first time today, Minho was back to his old self.

“Woah, easy there. How ‘bout getting yourself a girlfriend, first?” Minho teased, chuckling deeply as he resumed their path back to nowhere.

“Speaking of girlfriends,” Seunghoon noticed the way Minho’s gaze dropped a little, the air stilling but he was worried too, “Still haven’t heard from her?”

“She really didn’t say anything to you?”

Seunghoon shook his head, kicking the pebble once more, “No, she didn’t.”

The drive through the interstate would have brought anyone to sleep. The highway stretched endlessly, boring, with the occasional pit stops scattered sparsely between one another. Yet Minho was on the edge of his seat, the exact way the last time he passed through the area fourteen years back for an entirely different reason.

The road narrowed down, almost disappearing in his rearview mirror, signaling the near end of his journey. Something dipped in the pit of his stomach and Minho made a swift turn to the final rest area, finding the air rather stuffy all of a sudden.

He slammed the door shut, leaning against the side of his chevy and puffed out a sharp breath. His eyes scanned the place and realized how not much had changed. It was the furthest from town the five of them would ever had the guts to drive out to. Seungyoon being the wise one, always dodging away Minho’s attempts to convince them on taking a spontaneous road trip that they only dared to dream about.

Just like back then, the gas filling stations were unoccupied, looking like they might shutdown anytime soon seeing how worn down everything seemed to be. They did repaint the convenience store, got rid of the tacky neon signs and broken fairy lights.  That or Taehyun finally managed to run away with the hideous things, the memory cracked a smile out of him, finding it ridiculous because who knows what had happened after all this time?

He remembered hot summer days, hanging about with nowhere to go as they popped discounted soda cans and slurped on the drink, face flushed. More often than not, they would end up on the beach that nestled the entire span of the town, going back home in the evening with sand in their hair.

A text message buzzed in the back pocket of his jeans, probably Seunghoon asking him if he had gotten lost along the way, if being away for so long made him forget the way home.

The smile on Seunghoon’s face brightened to a full blow grin when the truck comes into view, treading the dirt path almost wearily like Minho wasn’t sure if he had reached the right address.

An older Seunghoon hopped off the short fleet of stairs, his auburn hair shorter now, replacing the scruffy bowl cut he always had. Seunghoon looked mature, but still the lanky limbed boy plastered with that trademark eye smile everyone and everything swooned over. A greyhound that resembled oddly of its owner wagged its stringy tail excitedly a few steps behind.

The engine stuttered to a stop when Minho clicked the ignition off, his heart picking up pace as he jumped off the vehicle, grinning back before he knew.

“Song Minho, you bastard. Didn’t think you’d make it.” Seunghoon shook his head zestfully, the familiar greeting sounding like nostalgia.

“Seunghoon.” Minho said quietly, still the one being dreadful at keeping his emotions together. He’d forgotten what to say as he swung his arm over Seunghoon, the two men enveloped in an overdue hello, laughing breathlessly while thumping the other on the back a little too hard.

“God, I almost didn’t recognize you. You look like you jumped outta’ the TV!” Seunghoon snickered, squeezing the younger’s shoulder as he ushered Minho up the wooden stairs to the porch.

Minho managed a hesitant laugh, unsure if it was a compliment. It reminded him of how out of place and how much he didn’t belong; he’d always been too gutsy for a town that was anything but. He almost forgot the paper bag cuddled in his arms, filled with seedless tangerines from the nearby store that earned him Seunghoon’s amusement.

Seunghoon wrapped his long fingers over the brown bag with a laugh, “For old time’s sake, huh?”

Vivid memories of the five of them seemed to float between the two friends, hunched around bags of the saccharine fruit, freshly harvested from Jinwoo’s family farm. Minho nodded a smile, settling down on the patio chair and nearly missed the orange Seunghoon chucked at him, grabbing the fruit clumsily on his lap. It didn’t surprise Seunghoon, glad to have him back and his god awful motor skills.

It was the first time for Minho being in Seunghoon’s new place, praising him for snagging the property that was perfect for the family Seunghoon dreamed about. Potted plants hung around the porch, the grass freshly mowed, a swing set below an oak tree by the side. Effort was evident and Minho couldn’t lie and that say he wasn’t a little envious.

“So who’s the lucky girl?” Minho asked, peering up at Seunghoon who broke out into a smile too timid.

“She’s a kindergarten teacher and loves Haute more than me, so I’d say I’m the lucky one here.” Seunghoon mused as the greyhound sprinted past them, now sniffing a pot of purple orchids in great interest.

“Ah, so you two met at work?”

“If you’re thinking what I’m thinking, no, there’s no funny stuff going on at work. Jesus, I work with kids, Minho.” Seunghoon flicked an orange peel at Minho, scoffing the baseless accusation.

“I didn’t say anything, Hoon.” A sly smile tugged the edge of his lips, feeling slightly at home the way Seunghoon had always been.

“I told the boys you’re here for the wedding, Jinwoo’s disappointed since he won’t be best man anymore.”

“Well, I miss him too.” He retorted softly. Minho was ashamed to say that he missed them, he missed goofing around senseless just like old times but he was guilt ridden. Saying that he missed them when he never made the effort was cowardly of him. Saying that he despised the place to ever return was not good enough, it was an excuse.

Silence stretched between them and Minho was relived that at least it stayed comfortable, that Seunghoon understood his reasons for leaving. Never making it any harder than it already was for Minho, even when everyone else accused him for taking it so easy.

“She’s doing fine, Minho.” Seunghoon ruptured his thoughts, voice serious and Minho looked up, failing to act like he didn’t have a clue what Seunghoon had meant.

As if he heard Minho’s thoughts exploding, Seunghoon cocked an eyebrow, “I can practically hear it in your head, you’ve been wanting to ask about her since you got out of that car.”

“I wasn’t-”

“Deny it all you want, Song. But I’m not stupid.” Seunghoon chuckled, crossing his legs and arms in synchronized beat and eyed Minho, who sighed in silent defeat.

“She’s going to be at the wedding, isn’t she?” He locked his fingers together, resting his elbows on his knees as he spoke too quietly to the wooden dock.

“I’ve known her longer than I’ve known you, Minho. Besides, she’s our florist, would kill me if I so much thought of skipping her an invite.” Seunghoon didn’t hesitate to remind him and Minho couldn’t help but smile to his lap.

Of course, they were friends long before Minho came along, the extra years they knew of each other was something Minho could never have.

No matter how much he pushed it away, she will always be closer to Seunghoon, something that served as glue to their friendship. Not letting unnecessary feelings in the way simply because they couldn’t, not when they’d built sandcastles before they could even talk and bickered like siblings with fights that lasted for only a day or two.

A heavy feeling sat in his chest, Minho never knew when his last fight with her ended, or if it never did.

“She found someone good?” Minho swallowed the lump tightening in his throat. Good because he was far from the word, far from what he ever was to her.

“They got a pretty kid, just like her.”

The sun hovered just right, emitting golden rays through silk like clouds that seemed to stay over the beach that held Seunghoon’s big day. It was as if the greater heavens had agreed for the occasion.

Guests began strolling in and Minho found the linen draped table of refreshments increasingly fascinating. That or he just wasn’t prepared to see familiar faces that would by some miracle still recognize him.

It wasn’t until he realized the same purple orchids from Seunghoon’s front porch decorated amongst floral centerpieces and the wedding arch. In fact, they were clustered virtually everywhere. The flower added a pleasant touch, bringing about a pop of colour against the pastel accents of big-headed blooms of hydrangeas and peonies.

She had been there right on the very porch and it was a silly thing to get worked up over but it caught him off guard. He grew reserved, jittery the longer he stood there idly like some lost child and proceeded to walk off, putting aside the glass of champagne he’d left untouched to the side.

Taehyun nor Seungyoon were nowhere to be found, the latter having had ranted off to Minho for drinking too much the other day and was still nursing a hangover by the corner somewhere. Probably getting quite a mouthful from his girlfriend, who no matter how much Seungyoon tried to deny it, was the exact copy of him, in a sense that the two talked too much, pried too much, cared too much.

Jinwoo had ran off to his screaming two year old, playing catch somewhere along the shoreline to keep the toddler busy.

Minho was dead sure that the murmuring had started, the staring probed his way as he avoided eye contact while bristling away to somewhere less crowded. It had been a while since he felt like a failure, a disappointment to the family for leaping out of the loop of what everyone in this town expected. Taking him years to barely grasp his parents’ approval, finally convincing them that he was on his own two feet with a roof over his head and making music for the underground scene.

Being here wasn’t exactly a walk in the park, maybe it was just the kick of his paranoia but it didn’t stop him from marking a distance. He didn’t particularly have anywhere to go and was surprised to see a wooden dock that stretched over to a beach bungalow, floating lonesome above the serene water.

He could tell wedding arrangements reached this seemingly private area too, the way exquisite pinks and reds of flowers and leafy greens cascaded the white wood pillars up to the archway. Minho smiled to himself, silently congratulating her for finally setting her passion for flowers alive.

They spoke of dreams of different magnitudes. Hers were safer, tangible and as she liked to put it, common. But she never pushed the opportunity to soak in every single one of Minho’s words whenever he marveled about his own, until one day it all became too real.

It broke him once, how she spilled about wanting a family of her own, a picket-fenced house with a cat and a dog, maybe a turtle. Minho caught the sadness beneath her gaze back then, how they both knew that it wasn’t going to be him by her side. Nothing seemed to shake him, not even a girl that made him feel things he found silly, like wanting to put flowers in her hair, which he did. Plenty of times.

Minho was halfway into the bungalow, mindlessly stalking the dock, still buried in his thoughts. He was shaken from the light daze when footsteps, almost childlike, clumsy, bounced throughout the wooden platform from behind him.

Without much thought, Minho turned to look over his shoulder, his eyes landing on a little girl with flowers in her jet black hair. Her gleeful giggles bubbling through the salty air, coming to a stop when her petite ballet flats met his brown oxfords. She craned up to steal a glance at him, squinting through the sun and everything seemed to tilt for a second or two.

Indeed, it’d been a while since he saw her. Maybe to the point where Minho had forgotten how she looked like and it hollowed him in guilt that felt like sin. But he knew those soft eyes, the same ones looking right back at him in that very instant. The sun kissed freckles mapped out like tiny hearts over the bridge of a nose too familiar tugged something in him and Minho was rooted to the floor.

“Calla!”

His knees felt numb at a voice he remembered too clearly, the name that came with it slamming against him like waves on the rocky shore nearby. “Calla. You know the flower? They’re a type of Lilies but more delicate, gentler. That’s what I’ll name her.”