It is tough, but I think about the people who believe in me…

There was a sense of finality hanging around him as he slipped on the navy-lined, grey jacket for the last time. He eyed the way the collar looked flipped up before finally smoothing it down—five years later, he really was no longer made for the disheveled, delinquent look. He stepped closer to the mirror to carefully affix his nametag above the program’s signature triangle logo, only wincing a little when he pricked himself with the needle yet again. He gave himself a grim smile, eyes raising to meet his reflection’s in the mirror.

“Of course, this would still happen by the last performance,” he muttered conspiratorially to his reflection, ignoring the ironic urge to give himself a wink and instead heaved a small sigh as he finally turned away from the mirror. The noise in the changing room around him had faded into a muted din, but he smiled as he caught random snippets of conversations—

No, hyung, for the last time st—

Stay still please—well look, now you got lip tint all over me—

Something warm settled in his chest as he leaned his weight against one of the tables, hands fiddling with the cap of a water bottle before placing it down and letting his mind drift.

“Did you poke yourself again?”

The interruption was welcomed, and as he heard the familiar voice, the corners of his mouth lifted instinctively. He looked up from where he’d been staring aimlessly at his hands, and his smile widened when Jonghyun came into view, dark hair brushing lightly against his soft, soft eyes.

He felt himself exit his daydream seamlessly and leaned towards Jonghyun like gravity’s pull.

“Who do you think I am? A five year old who still needs mommy’s help to pin something?” He asked amusedly.

“Honestly, yes,” Jonghyun replied—not missing a beat—and held out his palm.

Sitting atop it was the golden crown pin. He glanced down at his jacket which was noticeably lacking the pin and smiled sheepishly. He must have misplaced it. Jonghyun gave him a small grin in response and reached for his lapel, pulling him lightly towards him.

As he let himself tilt forwards, he felt his breath catch in his throat. And as if they were colluding with each other, his treacherous heart skipped a beat as Jonghyun’s steady weight was pressed against him and he was looking down at the top of his head.

“Minhyun-ah,” Jonghyun muttered as he bent closer to attach the pin, the vibrations of his voice traveling between them. There was a pause, and Minhyun swallowed in an attempt to get his vocal cords to work.

“Hmm?” He managed, fingers itching to run through Jonghyun’s hair like the old times, when affection still came easy. Jonghyun didn’t reply immediately, instead choosing to focus on pinning instead. Finally, when he was satisfied with the orientation of the crown, he patted Minhyun’s chest lightly and stepped back—smile blinding.

“Regardless of what happens today,” he began—and Minhyun almost tuned out, intoxicated by Jonghyun’s smile, something he’d spent over six years getting used to and something that still, without fail, took his breath away every time it appeared. But the six years had served him well, and he managed to vaguely register Jonghyun’s words.

“Hyung—” he said with an almost reprimanding tone. Jonghyun held up a hand and tilted his head, letting out a quiet chuckle.

“Let me finish, will you?”

Minhyun closed his mouth and watched Jonghyun warily. He looked tired, and standing so close to him, Minhyun could see the dark circles underneath his eyes peeking through the thin layer of concealer. He’d lost weight too—all of them had, whether due to the stringent diets, the relentless practices, or even just the stress. But even with his shoulders slightly hunched as if he’d held up the world for a little too long and the weight of it has since been etched into his posture, his eyes were bright and slightly wild. It was a good look on him—happiness, trust, hope, and gratitude. So long had the look in his eyes been shuttered, carefully composed, and Minhyun yearned for the days filled with careless laughter.

“Minhyun-ah, regardless of what happens today,” Jonghyun continued, “I just want to say thank you. For everything you’ve done for Nu’est—” He paused again, eyes dropping for a millisecond—so quick that Minhyun barely noticed it but then again Minhyun noticed everything about Jonghyun—and his smile turned a little sad.

“And for everything you will do for Nu’est.”