On a Thursday night two hours after the show in Vegas, I found myself in a 24-hour diner off the strip sipping coffee with TACTIX's elusive guitarist Kai ready to finally tackle the introduction interview with the band's last member. I started with the question at the top of my list, the one I've asked the other three men of TACTIX and received different answers to.

 "Why did you start the band?"

 Kai grinned. The smile transforming his face, not like how Chanyeol looks a little manic or how Baekhyun looks a little sweeter. Kai looks younger. For the first time since I've started this journey with TACTIX, I felt like I was facing a boy my age, twenty and half a step into adulthood.

 "It was supposed to be fun," Kai answered. I've heard him speak a handful of times before this moment, but in a band filled with Baekhyuns, Chanyeols, and Chens, it seemed easy enough for the Kais of the band to avoid the spotlight. That night, his voice took on a hint of something I can only describe as wistful.

 "Supposed to be," I repeated, watching that smile twist and become a lot more wicked. This first question may have been the simplest on my list, but I felt it was the most important in understanding what the sudden fame might have meant to them.

"Tell me," Kai said, leaning back in his seat, confident and at ease as if he was the interviewer. "Have you ever done something you've almost immediately regretted?"

Sehun wants to toss the PC in front of him out of the nearest window. The blinking cursor of the word processor before him egging him on like a taunting child. It's well after 2am and the minutes to his deadline are speeding by with no progress.

Across from him, the radio crackles with static as the familiar tenor of the late-night alternative rock DJ announces the next song, the latest rock ballad from indie powerhouse TACTIX. Sehun looks up from the blue computer screen, glaring in silent misery at the only other person in the room.

Rachel Cheung, current events editor and a year his senior, looks up just as Baekhyun's voice begins to fill the room. She's got her coffee cup halfway to and a grin spreading across her black lipstick-covered lips.

"Can I help you," She asks, voice so sickeningly sweet Sehun can't help but to glare a little harder. They're friends even if Sehun wants to toss her little antenna radio out of the window alongside his computer, and he knows that she's just teasing him.

Sehun drags his eyes slowly from her to the bulky silver headphones hanging off her table lamp and back. He tries to give her his own sweet smile, but he's sure it looks more like a grimace. Unlike his friend, he doesn't get much pleasure from people being miserable well past midnight.

"Rachel, can you please use your headphones," Sehun asks. "I'm seriously seconds away from smashing my head against the desk, and the background noise is doing all to distract me from it."

"Of course, Sehun," she says in that same tone, the amusement shining clear in her eyes. She moves slowly even as Sehun returns back to glaring mostly at her computer, but eventually, Baekyhun's belting is cut off.

___________________________________

It is 7am when Sehun watches Rachel lock up for the day. All around them, students are waking up, making their way to the nearest dining hall for breakfast. Sehun's tempted to join the masses of sleepy-eyed and half-wake, and zombie walk his way to the nearest coffee shop. He wonders what he looks like them, having only slept in snatches of minutes when his brain could think no further, and the coffee could energize him no longer.

"Did you drive to campus," Rachel asks, taking a step in front of him and yawning. Her makeup is smudged around her eyes, the deep blacks and purples of her eyeshadow and liner now coloring her temples. Sehun gives a slow blink, trying to process the question instead of counting the number of coffees he's just binged.

"Yeah," he replies with his own yawn. "I figured I'd walk you to your sister's dorm and hole myself up at the coffee shop for a while before I try to drive home."

She frowns, the skin between her eyebrows pinching together as she crosses her arms and looks him over before eventually nodding her head.

With a quick turn, she begins a slow trek across campus, Sehun following her and thinking back to the coffees he's ingested and wondering if more will make his journey home easier or harder.

Sehun finally gets home at a quarter to ten. He has a fiction writer's workshop at ten on the dot, but professor Richardson favors him due to his own history working for the school paper and Sehun's exemplary work in previous courses instructed by him. Being that it's only his second mid-week all-nighter as editor and his first to leave him half-asleep on his feet he decides to skip class.

A person is sitting on the floor directly in front of his door, and Sehun can't help the grimace that crosses his face. He's dealt with his fair share of homelessness growing up in San Francisco and going to school in LA, but it still makes his gut clench and leaves him a little depressed. Not to mention the fact that Sehun's now going to be forced to ask someone to vacate their spot because they decided to set up camp right in front of his door in his locked apartment building.

As he approaches, making his steps just a little louder to catch the person's attention to at least ease some of the awkwardness, the person looks up, and Sehun falters in his steps. The face before him is familiar, way too familiar, and Sehun wants nothing more than to turn on his heel and flee, the prospect of shooing away a homeless man not seeming as bad suddenly. With a deep inhale, Sehun lifts his chin and powers on as the person stands to their feet.

His name is whispered into the space between them, causing a shiver to run down his spine.

"Jongin," Sehun greets stiffly, continuing his steps with more confidence watching as Jongin steps out of the way once Sehun gets in front of his door. He does not try to open it, doesn't bother taking out his keys. He just stands there for a moment, eyes and hand on the knob. "The tour ended."

It's not exactly a question. It's more of a statement than anything else.

"I– yeah. I sent you something and tried calling, but..." Jongin says, voice faltering. He reaches out a hand, slow and shaking just a bit, fingertips nothing but a gentle press against Sehun's hand. Sehun pulls away from the touch and the doorknob and leans back against his door, arms crossed in front of him.

"What are you doing here, Jongin," he asks, voice a hoarse whisper between them.

"I missed you," Jongin answers without a moment's hesitance. He steps forward into Sehun's space, blocking off Sehun's escape. There's a part of Sehun that wants to push him away, a part that wants to do a second glance around the hallway to make sure they're alone, and a part that wants to press closer. Jongin's hair is in his eyes, he has dark circles to match Sehun's own, and he's leaning in so close Sehun can smell the scent of his cologne, woodsy and familiar.

"I sent you postcards for every city we've been to," Jongin says, voice as low as Sehun's been and honey brown eyes unwavering as he meets Sehun's own. "Did you get them?"

"No, they must have gotten lost in the mail," Sehun lies, abruptly breaking eye contact as he turns back to the door. He can feel Jongin at his back, the heat radiating off him as Sehun finally pulls his keys from his dark denim jeans and wonders if Jongin can tell he's lying. He's got a tiny box in his bottom drawer filled with postcards from places he could only dream of and a mixtape. "Why were you sitting on the ground? You could have been mugged. How did you even get into the building?"

"Someone opened the door for me," Jongin replies, following Sehun inside when Sehun holds the door for him. "I haven't been waiting that long, and I didn't want to come back again and miss you a second time. You haven't been answering my calls."

Sehun watches as he takes a cursory look around the tiny apartment before taking a seat on the dark brown suede sofa situated before the television. Sehun leaves him to his own devices and heads to the kitchenette. His apartment is much too small to have a kitchen in another room, and it's never really bothered him until today. He fiddles with the coffee pot on the counter, suddenly in need of another caffeine boost.

It's silent, and Sehun wants to fill it, wants to speak before it gets more awkward, but does not know where to begin. He left Jongin in New York City with a no on his lips and their summer romance crashing into flames around him. They hadn't exactly said goodbye to each other, Sehun's flight had been early, and all he could do was leave a note with Junmyeon. He hadn't expected much, but over a month later, he received his first postcard. Sehun had thought it was a joke at first, but then more and more of them came. Even now, Sehun still doesn't know what to make of the postcards. Each one contained a small note about the city it came from or the band, or both, and ended with a love, Jongin.

"I've thought about you," Jongin mutters into the quiet air, and Sehun almost flinches at the sound, eyes burning holes into the coffee pot, mentally urging the machine to work faster.

"Do you want coffee," Sehun asks when the device lets out a series of wheezing beeps to single that it's done brewing. The smell of burnt coffee beans is a welcome reprieve from the lingering memory of Jongin's cologne.

"Please," Jongin says, and Sehun moves, grabbing a school mug and character mug from the overhead cabinet. The second mug is of a Loony Tunes character that Rachel gifted to celebrate him becoming an editor. It was cute, but Sehun preferred his large black mug when working on the paper and thus retired the mug to the safety of his cabinet. He's too tired to care rather or not the big bad guitarist of a famous rock band has an opinion about it.

Jongin likes his coffee black with sugar. Sehun usually takes his with too much creamer, but today he takes it like Jongin.

"I pulled an all-nighter," Sehun says as he plops down beside Jongin, with enough space in between them not to touch. Jongin hums a little, either in understanding or sympathy, Sehun does not know. He knows he must look a mess with dark circles under his eyes and limbs that tremble with a caffeinated jitteriness.

"Do you want me to go?"

"No," Sehun sighs, leaning back against the couch. He could close the distance between them and rest his head on Jongin's shoulder, and Jongin wouldn't complain. He could go to his room and sleep, and Jongin wouldn't complain and would probably find something to do in his ty too-small apartment to entertain himself. He does neither of those things. Instead, he looks over to Jongin, his grimace back in place, and mutters a small, "I missed you too."

A/N: Sorry for the wait. I tried to update on mobile but couldn't get the format right :(