It felt like words couldn’t really express the things that were going through his head, or the feelings that accompanied those raging thoughts.

“Yah, are you okay?” Minho repeated as he gave the youngest another soft push. Soft, yet harder than the previous one.

Taehyun didn’t know. Was he? Was he okay? Were the things he was thinking okay? He begged to differ.

With an exasperated sigh, Minho rolled his eyes and directed his attention back to his phone. Games were more entertaining than trying to figure out why a certain maknae suddenly had gasped. It didn’t take long before he was completely engrossed in the game, with a cheering Seunghoon at his side.

Taehyun felt his eyes pricking, indicating he should probably stop staring now, yet he couldn’t divert his eyes for even a second. For some reason, he found himself not very much willing to miss anything by doing something as completely useless as closing his eyes for a bit. Even though the flashing lights were blinding, the person the camera was capturing was even more so.

Seungyoon pulled his guitar closer and stuffed it under his arm before nonchalantly folding his hands together and casting a lazy gaze towards the camera. It tugged Taehyun’s heart strings, and he didn’t know why. He didn’t know why he had a sudden feeling of sadness engulfing him, nearly drowning him when Seungyoon lightly smirked.

“That’s okay,” the photographer signed, making Seungyoon place the guitar back on the couch. He jumped off in one swift move, trudging towards the spot one of the coordinators was directing him to.

“Just do whatever,” she told him, and Seungyoon crouched down. He sluggishly threw his arms over his knees, and stared at the camera with a half-lidded stare.

Taehyun heard someone whispering “perfect”, and he—honest to God—wished he wasn’t the culprit. He was knocked out of that illusion when Jinwoo shot him a curious glance. “What did you just say?”

The youngest quickly shook his head. “Toilet. I just have to go to the toilet.”

Jinwoo frowned, but didn’t say anything else as he watched the boy launch himself out of the couch and make a run for the bathroom.

A few clicks later, Seungyoon thanked the photographer, and joined Jinwoo on the couch. “What time is it?” He asked as he searched for his jacket.

The oldest shrugged. “Probably somewhere around two.”

As if those words suddenly triggered an alarm in Minho’s head, he let out a very needy “I’m hungry!”