“Shall we do it once more?” Jinki asked while fixing the lapel of his jacket. “Or you guys are satisfied already?”

“I’m fine either way, maestro,” Sooyeon answered, followed by a few others who nodded their heads in assent. Even after spending the whole morning learning the dry run of the event, the cellists were still as energetic as ever. They didn’t complain at all, and it made Jinki as the conductor smile.

“Good to know, but you know me. I would like it better if we don’t overdo the practice, especially on the day before. Let’s just give it a leisure rehearsal, and then we will call it a day. How about that?”

“Sounds good. Aye, Minho!”

The owner of the name turned around, eyebrows quirked in silent inquiry. Sooyeon only smirked playfully, “We’re going to practise one more time. Is that okay with you?”

“Yeah,” Minho glanced at the door and bit his lower lip briefly, giving it another minute of waiting before walking back to the familiar crowd on the stage with his shoulders sagged slightly. “Yeah, of course.”

“What’s up? Were you waiting for someone?” His friend nudged him from the side, already positioning the cello between his legs without looking up to meet Minho’s eyes. The taller man hummed in response to the question, but he didn’t provide a verbal answer other than that inaudible noise.

Because the truth was, he did.

He was waiting for Taemin to come, though it seemed like he wasn’t anywhere near the theatre at the moment. The promise they made had possibilities, and Minho had no choice but to limit them to a certain probability that maybe–just maybe–Taemin was busy. And that was perfectly fine. It was supposed to be.

“Let’s start, then.”

And so they began practising again with Jinki leading the performance. Minho always sought solace in the sounds from the combined cellos in an enclosed space like the auditorium. The first time he watched an orchestral performance was in 1999 when he was only eight - still so young to explore, free to try, and brave to possess an interest or passion. 

He remembered gasping when the Seoul Philharmonic Orchestra started playing; the first tune got him in a trance and left him wide-eyed the whole time. Again, he was still so young to describe, but if there was a word that could do his inarticulate self some justice, it was majestic. The togetherness awed him until this day.

And now, it awed Taemin.

Surprised at the sight of the man on the front row of the seats, his beret still loosely draped over his head with his long hair sweetly tucked behind his ear - Taemin made it there. Just like before, Minho stopped looking at his strings, yet he didn’t stop playing. He kept on watching Taemin as he smiled and waved his hand, then pointed at the cello to make the older man focus on the instrument.

But instead, Minho shook his head, a cheeky grin making its way across his face. It was a tad silly, too, considering how engrossed he was in practice even to notice Taemin’s presence. Bloody insane. 

How did that happen?

When the rehearsal ended, Taemin was the first to clap his hands, and then he turned beet red when everyone gazed at him in both amusement and exasperation. Jinki and Kibum were included, of course. Not that Minho could blame them when Taemin was the one to be an actual sweetheart perched on the seat, like a contented munchkin in his best mood.

“You came,” the cellist said, surprising the other man as they sat side-by-side, ignoring all of his friends at the same time. “I thought you changed your mind.”

“Hey, I’m a man of my words,” Taemin chuckled and tilted his body slightly. “Just had to meet my professor before coming here. Assignment stuff, you know.”

“The portrait?”

“Yes. Your portrait.”

Minho let out a guffaw while pulling the sleeves of his shirt up to his elbows. Taemin was getting pretty bold for someone who couldn’t stop blushing during their first meeting, and it somehow activated something in Minho to keep on teasing him like that. “So you didn’t actually sell it for tteokbokki, eh?”

“Nope,” Taemin faked a huff but blushed yet again upon hearing the other’s fond chuckle. “It was a part of my evaluation. I had a pretty severe artist’s block the other day. So my friend, Kibum–your conductor’s boyfriend, apparently–thought I needed to take a breather and brought me to this place. You know when they said home is where the heart is?”

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah, I think this is what they meant by that. Just the state of being calm and drowning myself in tranquillity,” he paused. “Not when you guys start playing the cellos simultaneously, though.”

The additional statement made Minho laugh again. At first, he was too stunned to speak - not knowing the exact reply that Taemin might be anticipating to hear after being effortlessly poetic and transparent about his recent experience. It wasn’t even a pleasant one, to boot.

Still, deep