A/N: I just realized after chapter one that I feel bad for having projected Junkyu and even Jihoon as slightly darker characters without giving any sort of warning. Sorry, guys! It’s necessary for the story(the slightly darker JiKyu), and it will be for the next ones. And I also need you to imagine that in this story, Junkyu and Jihoon are portrayed as older than they are in real-life. And that they are not the Junkyu and Jihoon in a band that we know is Treasure, rather regular people. But who they are in my story is still heavily influenced by the real Junkyu and Jihoon, just. . . a little darker. But I have plans, so please trust me! So, you've been warned! (Slightly) Darker JiKyu ahead! 

Unlike most people, Mondays never bothered Junkyu. In fact, he enjoyed the buzz that came with it, enjoyed the extra time the traffic afforded him for some Me-time and music streaming. Most importantly, Mondays allowed him to get lost in the crowd and therefore keep the spotlight away from him. He had always been a shy person. 

“Timid, more like.” 

Junkyu started, as though waking up from a dream, surprised at hearing himself mumble. Self-conscious all of a sudden, he cast a quick glance toward the cab driver in the front seat. When he was sure that the latter hadn’t heard him, he let out a quiet sigh of relief and sat up straight. He looked outside the window, Rubben Studdard’ s Superstar beginning to play on his ears. He turned up the volume and readjusted the earpod on his left ear.

Timid, more like.

Even he could hear Jihoon’s voice in his head. And now he was echoing him.

How far had he gone? How bad had it all become?

As Studdard reached the chorus, Junkyu felt his eyes begin to water, but he was quick to sniff and hold more back, scoffing at himself for feeling ridiculously emotional. He skipped the song but was led only to another ballad. He searched for something upbeat and tapped play. He took a deep breath and blinked his eyes several times. None of these small, futile rituals helped wipe Jihoon's face in his head.

Junkyu leaned on the window with his head. He raised his phone to check the time: 6:18 PM. He had left work about ten minutes ago. The cab was barely moving, and although the fare would probably cost Junkyu more than he spent on his lunch and dinner combined, he chose to think nothing more of it and let his eyes droop. He was sure he was just on the verge of falling asleep when he felt his phone buzz, thus cancelling the much needed nap.

Junkyu held up his phone and peered at the notification bar. Mouth agape, he looked at the screen longer than he would have, as if the name that flashed was Jihoon himself, that if Junkyu opened it, Jihoon would speak. Snap out of it . He let his phone fall on his lap. Fully awake again, he mulled over his feelings. How did he really feel toward Jihoon now?

A week had passed since the night of the disavowal. Junkyu had since regretted the way he had acted and had, the following morning, even decided to give Jihoon a call. To say what, he didn’t know. But as though saved by the bell, just as he was unlocking his phone, Jihoon’s caller ID appeared. It was at that moment that Junkyu stood at his room frozen, staring at Jihoon’s name. Junkyu had wanted to answer, but he hadn’t wanted to seem like he had been expecting Jihoon’s call, so he had ignored it, deciding he would pick up on the second call. But there was no second call.

It had irked Junkyu so much that he lay awake in bed for two hours that night before exhaustion finally overcame him. He hadn’t received any calls from Jihoon again the following days. Nor had Junkyu taken the initiative to return the call after that one time either. Both of them needed time for themselves, anyway, and besides, Junkyu had reached the point where he just wanted to be left alone.

Though who was he kidding, he had secretly enjoyed the feeling of having to be chased rather than do the chasing. For a change. And he had wanted more.

But guilt was a constant visitor, too. He could only imagine how much guts it must have taken Jihoon to make the first move. So foreign was the feeling for Junkyu that he had easily let pride get the best of him. 

But just yesterday evening, Jihoon had called again. With a clear head and the promise to be more reasonable, Junkyu had picked up this time. 

It was a brief, uncomfortable call, in which Junkyu felt a mixture of trepidation and relief. But more of trepidation. Jihoon had asked for them to meet. Junkyu had just been so eager to end the call as soon as possible, and also because he was haunted by guilt, that he had agreed. Before ending the call, Junkyu had told Jihoon that he would text him where they would meet and that he might not be available until Friday of this week.  

However, when the call had ended, Junkyu realized he didn’t look forward to the prospect of having to think of it until Friday came, so he had decided he would do it today, so he could also just get it done and over with. 

Now, surprisingly mildly unaffected by the prospect of Jihoon deprecating him for everything once they talked later, Junkyu wondered what the text-message contained. Probably just Jihoon telling him he had arrived at the meeting place. Or maybe he had backed out? On purpose? His way of getting back at Junkyu?

Unable to help himself now, Junkyu opened the message. The following text-message wasn’t what he’d expected at all. And he didn’t know if he should feel disappointed or touched.

Kyu. Going to be late. Babysat the kid. Yoshi and Kay arrived late cos of traffic. Really sorry. OTW tho.

Junkyu knew who the kid was, and so were his parents. They were close-neighbor friends of Jihoon. A newly wed couple. Junkyu had met them a few times, when Jihoon would bring him to his apartment. He’d met the kid, too. An adorable, quiet four-year old boy, who, to Junkyu’s amazement, Jihoon was very fond of. 

As Junkyu gazed from the screen of his phone towards the city lights, he wondered whether Jihoon was lying. Which was absurd of him to think of. It wasn’t the first time it had happened. The babysitting.  

Junkyu recalled the first time he'd been brought to Jihoon's apartment. It had been the holidays. Jihoon had been talking about the kid right even before Junkyu had met him, and he had promised Junkyu that he was gonna freaking love him. 

So excited was Jihoon that he had, without an ounce of embarrassment, knocked at his neighbors' door and offered to babysit the boy, so his friends could have time for themselves. Junkyu had been there with him. Junkyu had never seen this side of Jihoon. He was always too proud that he spoke minimally in front of other people, as though he was above them all, that whatever they had had to say was nothing of importance. He was like this even to those he used to work with. Even to Junkyu, on bad days. It was only later on did Junkyu learn that this was only a cover up to a shy, confused person inside. 

Taking a deep breath, Junkyu started typing a reply.

It’s fine. I’m stuck in traffic anyway.

Junkyu looked up from the screen, realizing that so would Jihoon be. Which meant Junkyu would still have to wait. He tapped send before unnecessary malicious thoughts invaded his head. But he couldn’t help but think whether Jihoon was doing this all on purpose, to, again, get back at him for leaving him outside last week, embarrassing him.

Junkyu let out an irritated sigh, loud enough that the driver said, “Sorry, sir. It’s Monday.”

“Oh, no. It’s not—I remember I fo