Sungmin stepped out of the shop into the day’s foggy embrace, a thick one he can see from inside the shop’s large windows. He takes a few steps when he sees a figure waiting by the corner lamp post, checking his watch. When Sungmin approaches him, Henry smiled.

“I was let out early,” Henry explains, “I thought you’d like dinner.”

“Where?” Sungmin asks, Henry rattles off some options until they mutually decide on a place.

The fog is still so thick, but they’re still able to make out where to go as others do. Henry looks back when he feels a tug on his side, and glimpses at Sungmin holding his arm.

“I can’t really see,” he excuses, and is grateful that Henry appears cheerful. It's as if they resumed life before, Sungmin thinks. There are times still Henry is upset with him, there are incidents when they don’t see eye to eye, but never once has Henry raised a hand against him.

And still, this ideal life Sungmin takes lightly.

Sungmin had always been afraid to say he was happy. Anything remotely good in his life, were always taken away.

Statistics claimed children abused by their parents sometimes entered abusive relationships as well. Sungmin would like to think he wasn’t just a number,

”You left hell only to run back to a monster!”

Sungmin has too much time to think during the slow hours at work. He just stood there amongst stacked clothes and flattened boxes amongst the many shelves.

He remembers the man acting kind, paired with an almost boyish charm. The first thought that enters in his mind is how much he resembled Henry’s personality. That leads him to be at ease with the stranger, unlike he was with everyone else, and falls for what he now realized, was just the next best thing.

It's after a while that he realizes fairly quickly that he's nothing like him.

When Henry first asks about those bruises, Sungmin lies.

His ex showered him with affection after every bout of anger, declared he cared for him, loved him, and in his mind he believes it justifies his behavior. It’s better than what his parents did, not daring to hide their forms of discipline.

There may have been that difference, Henry had told him, but that wasn’t love. Sungmin just wouldn’t hear of it.

That was how he treated his friend who helped him the first time around. Henry had begged him for years to leave his home, and offered him everything as long as he did. Leaving his parents was the hardest decision he’s ever made, and Henry supported him.

He clenched his eyes; he repaid him in the worst way possible.

Sungmin opened his eyes at the sound of the open door, hearing the small television still playing that he forgot to turn off from his unintended nap after dinner. He turned over to see Henry cautiously stepping out of the shower but stops when he realizes he had already woken him up.

“Sorry,” Henry apologizes.

Sungmin slowly sits up, turning off the television as he fully awakens and sees Henry again changing into his night clothes, turning away to give him his privacy. “You’re going out?”

“I wasn’t planning on it, but one of the band’s needed a substitute for the night, and luckily I know the chords by heart.” Henry smiles.

Sungmin’s fingers dig into the bed sheets. “Can I come with you?” He asks hesitantly.

“...You want to?” Henry asks doubtfully, Sungmin preferred quieter venues, and his music wasn’t quite it.

Sungmin started looking for his sweater from the bed. “Yes. It’s been awhile since I’ve seen you play live.”

He had always glimpsed at the flyers that showcased his band’s name during his route home, “I really wanted to come see you but I-...”

That’s right, his ex had forbade him from going when Sungmin tried the first time around, and every instance since. That long-deserved apology lingered on his thoughts, and he’s glad he was finally able to tell him. Still, the guilt doesn’t subside easily.

There was no use telling Henry the rest of it, it’s the past, and he didn’t want him upset. Sungmin then proudly lifts up his sweater, “found it!” He exclaims.

Henry outstretched his hand, and by instinct, Sungmin nearly flinches. Yet when he meets the guitarist’s eyes, his nerves calm almost instantly, and he relaxes as Henry places a gentle hand on his head, just as he’s always done years before.

“Let’s go then,”

Sungmin mimics his smile.

-

When they enter the place, it’s more than packed, Sungmin has to squeeze in with Henry just to cross the room. Sungmin doesn’t know where to go, and follows him until they reach some counter. Sungmin sits in one of the empty stools when another man speaks to Henry.

“I thought you weren’t performing tonight?” Yesung asks Henry.

“I’m substituting, and you?”

“Just here for drinks.” Yesung says, his glass already half-empty. Henry shakes his head as he looks back at Sungmin.

“I’ll be right back,” Henry assures him.

Sungmin doesn’t say much when Yesung abruptly turns his attention to him. “Who are you?” Yesung asks politely to Sungmin.

“Just the subject of Lau’s song lyrics.” They both look at the owner who appears in front of them before Sungmin has the chance to answer, checking some bottles.

“Is that so, how flattering.” Yesung laughs, not taking it seriously. Henry walks behind the two and casts a warning look at Ryeowook who smiles back at Sungmin.

“This concert’s getting out of hand,” Yesung comments, “bet you’re happy then, more business.”

Ryeowook redirects his attention back to the newcomer, “Is there anything you’d like to drink?” Though he declines, Ryeowook starts making one anyway. “It’s free, take it.”

Sungmin sits on the stool by the pillar, successfully secluding himself from the crowd. He barely touches his drink when he accepts it, his attention drawn back to the stage.

The owner spares some time and looks at Sungmin from the corner of his eye. There’s pride in those delighted eyes, yes, but that wasn’t all. And while the entire audience focused on the lead singer, Sungmin’s gaze didn’t leave the guitarist whose obscured by the lack of proper lighting.

Ryeowook feels he sees shreds of happiness in them, a blissful smile tugging on his lips.

“What’d you think?” Henry asks, leaning in over Sungmin’s shoulder as he accepts a glass of water. Ryeowook keeps watch of the modest friend who debates his praise.

“I liked it.” From his quiet tone, Henry assumes the man’s just being nice and takes the compliment as is.

Ryeowook silently questioned him, You loved it. Sungmin couldn’t even take his eyes off of him. When Henry’s near him, Sungmin suppresses his glee, the happiness Ryeowook clearly sees reaching the surface.

“Let’s get going,” Henry says, having returned with case on hand. He gave a short wave to his friend, “Later.”

Ryeowook nods as Sungmin departs with the tired guitarist.

He couldn’t tell Henry, even if he was sure of his suspicions. He still recalls the lowly man who, just months before, stopped in the middle of his band’s song. Leaving the stage and hiding behind the bar’s counter, tears running down his cheeks.

Ryeowook was almost certain that Henry wasn’t the only one holding back, but he wasn’t sure if he could handle being possibly wrong.

-

The city still had its forests, man-made and some parts kept. And though there’s tall buildings all around, Sungmin stops right near a tree-filled alley.

At his hands on the metal fence, he glances at Henry with hopeful eyes. Henry lifts the gate’s latch and pushes the door, Sungmin helped lead him through.

Henry tries not to be bothered that Sungmin’s holding his wrist, rather than his hand as he used to do. Their relationship had obviously taken a few steps back.

Sungmin pulled Henry through until they reached the murky pond. “Ever since I stumbled on it, I liked coming here.” There’s light from the building windows above, and it gives them some solace in the almost inclusive darkness. “Do you remember?”

“Vaguely.” Henry says honestly, it’s when there’s a cold draft that it prompts the thin memory.

Henry received a phone call from the school, asking him if he knew Sungmin’s whereabouts. Henry said no, but scoured the city with no such luck. It’s when he finally finds Sungmin from a distance, and eventually follows him, when he approached him with his hand to his back, the scared man bolted without looking back.

Henry trudged through the muddy grounds within the large urban garden that’s been left abandoned by whoever started the project. He glimpses at signs of water, and the musician lingers nearby, waiting until Sungmin finally looked his way, and realized he wasn’t the monster chasing him.

Sungmin needed to find solace, a place he felt safe in. Henry found his escape through music, Sungmin sometimes appeared envious when he watched him, mixed in with admiration and pride. This place though, at least, was Sungmin’s.

Sungmin smiled at the budding lotus flower that has yet to bloom.

“The place they bloom at aren’t always beautiful and peaceful, but it’s a nice sight to see. Even something like this, despite its past, one it cannot choose, can survive.” Sungmin praises, kneeling to the ground. “In dreary places, you don’t expect a miracle to happen. And when it does, it’s the best feeling in the world.”

Henry can see from the water’s dark reflection that Sungmin’s looking his way.

Henry’s hesitant in looking back, and through the silence, his heart sounds even louder.

His cell started ringing, interrupting the serenity. His eyes darkened a bit, but it signals to Sungmin who the caller is. Henry instantly answers, “he isn’t here... No, I haven’t seen him, will you just let it go?... Fine, then stop calling me.” He hung up immediately.

“I really hate him,” Henry utters, debating whether it might be a good idea to change his number. The idea that the man was healthily standing somewhere, facing no consequences of his actions, fueled him to no end. Yet the police were less than helpful when Henry inquired about it, that man's reputation was too good, an impossible barrier to break.

He didn’t realize it then, but Sungmin had realized that long ago too.

Henry sees Sungmin approach him from his side view, and keeps just a short distance between them. His stern gaze shifts to his skin, and he’s relieved that those bruises have diminished.

With every bit of honest sincerity, Sungmin expresses a warm “Thank you.”

Eventually, the lotus will rise above the muddy waters, Sungmin has witnessed it many times whenever he ventured there his first time.

Sungmin hoped to achieve the same, and rise from the shadows of his past. It sometimes felt like an impossible task, yet with Henry, it’s just a little easier now.

Still, there’s enough weight on Henry’s shoulders, and Sungmin preferred if he weren’t another added burden.

-

Henry feels his heart racing, it’s not always common, and it’s something he’s used to with Sungmin always nearby. Still, he tries to keep this habit of his a secret.

It’s harder to keep during the ride home one day, having ventured to another city for the sake of it, a day trip they both enjoyed. The return trip on the train is packed with people in each cart, and Henry almost regrets deciding on a weekend to do this. It’s nearly as bad as the nightclub.

A particularly tall man stands by and it nerves Sungmin, though it isn’t his ex, Henry realizes the man resembles him. And that’s enough to strike a chord of fear.

Henry shifts himself and blocks Sungmin’s view of the stranger, holding onto the metal ring above as the train takes a sharp turn, and Sungmin’s scuffled further against Henry as the crowd scrambles to stand upright.

Henry doesn’t mean it to be, but the close contact is enough, and he feels the other tense slightly. Sungmin feels it too.

“I’m sorry,” Henry murmurs, Sungmin doesn’t say anything back, and the silence consumes them as the train continues.

Henry is relieved that Sungmin doesn’t treat him any differently.

It’d be a lie to also say he wasn’t a little disappointed for the same reason.

It’s been months, with winter’s clutches barely hanging onto the city, it welcomes the mildly warmer weather and longer hours embraced by the sun.

And for a long while, without the ex’s calls, Henry begins to relax.

He checks the soundboard, mouthing the words of the current band’s song as the subtle vibrations from the excited crowd each him. His band played after the next, and in the meantime helps however he can. Through the crowd’s varied screams, he hears his name called and turns.

“Sungmin? I thought you worked the night shift.”

“I switched my hours,” Sungmin replies loudly. Henry nods, there was still the next band to go after this one, and mouths the words from their current song.

“Henry, I-”

There’s another loud scream and Henry leans in to hear him, “What?”

The screams settle and Sungmin manages to tell him, “I’m moving out.”

Henry stops. He vaguely hears Sungmin trying to explain, “I saved up enough, I’m paying the deposit tomorrow.”

Henry shows no reaction. Sungmin begins to doubt his words were heard. Before he could repeat himself, he sees the leader singer hastily speak to Henry.

“We’re next, the band before us still isn’t here yet.”

That awakens the musician who readies himself, though his expression shows he still isn't quite there.

Sungmin is ready to step out when Henry holds him back,

“Don’t go.”

Sungmin shifts his eyes, “but Henry-”

“Two minutes and you’re up,” someone informs, Henry nods and his bandmates ready themselves. He shifts his attention back to Sungmin who waits for an explanation. Sungmin can see his lips moving but can’t hear him. He leans in,

“-I need to know if you’re fine, if you’re okay. I need to know you’re nearby,”

“You've already done enough.”

“Thirty seconds,” they hear, the band head to the stage, Henry glances back and looks straight into Sungmin’s eyes, deaf to the escalating noise.

“Promise me you won’t go.”

Henry didn’t care how irrational he sounded. After so many months without contact from Sungmin, he couldn’t let it happen again.

“Promise me.”

Sungmin parted his lips, but doesn’t say it, and nods. Henry then sprints to the stage and their session begins.

Once it ends, the five tread backstage, and to Henry’s misfortune, Sungmin wasn’t there.

He returned to his apartment, bitter and upset, as if there were no other combination. He jams his key into his doorknob, but stops just as he turns it, slumping his head against the door.

“I need to know if you’re okay,” he mumbles.

Even if Sungmin wasn’t his, he just needed to know that.

He was always scared that one day he’d hear news, any gossip from the many who passed through their nightly doors, he’s heard so many familiar names tossed around amongst them. He doesn’t anticipate when one day someone will mention Sungmin’s name. When he finds out through distant gossip, that Sungmin might be hurt, or worse.

And with those plagued in Sungmin’s life, the worse was a constant possibility.

Henry opened the door, and sees the lights are all on, and within the studio by his microwave, is Sungmin sitting beside it with bags around him.

“I bought some dinner.” He stood up and gestures to the warmed food, “I also bought drinks. I wanted to than-”

Henry held him tightly from behind. Relieved, his grip tightens. “I thought you left,”

“I promised you I wouldn’t.” Sungmin reminds, though guilty he still sounds.

Henry doesn’t stop holding him, even when the food gets cold and the drinks warm. He’s fine if time stops, though it keeps going.

As long as Sungmin was with him, he could care less if the world just stopped turning.