Trying to catch his breath, Minho stared blankly into the soccer goal, the wires in his head finally connected. Behind him, he heard a crowd screaming in victory, and he turned to see a group of familiar boys in red jerseys tackling him as they wrapped themselves around him. The crowd chanted his name, “Choi Minho! Choi Minho!” It was déjà-vu all over again, Minho remembered this exact moment; it was the day he scored the winning shot to go to regional back in high school. Mixed feelings aroused in his chest, the crowd almost influenced his mind to scream out victorious as well but his heart was telling him that something odd was going on.

            As his teammates swept him into the locker rooms they patted his back, smiling as widely as ever, giving him small comments like “great job” or “nice, man! I love you!” Walking further into the locker rooms, Minho stopped before a mirror… Doing a double-take as he saw the puzzling look plastered on his face, did it make any sense that he was young again? His fingers hesitantly touched his face and he gulped loudly, how can this be? He was his sixteen year old self again. It was a damn miracle and a relief that he didn’t have to feel the stubs of his shaven face anymore, to see the wrinkles of stress on his face from work. The young Jonghyun appeared behind him, slapping his back hard, chuckling as he praised him, “there’s my man! Nice shot out there, you worried me a bit, it kind of looked like you were a deer in headlights when I gave you the assist. But you did it! We’re going to regional now! Next up is to nationals!”

            “Regional?” Minho repeated quietly, sounding lost. I really did come back in time… The thought of reversing time made his heart skip beats, he couldn’t believe it, but then he has to because he’s here, back in time, back to the day of September 27^th of his sophomore year. “Taemin…” he whispered. “Got to find him…” Minho would surely be convinced that this would be a dream if he found Taemin. Right when he took a step towards the door, Jonghyun grabbed him. “Where are you going, Minho? You gotta get dressed for the victory party!” The smaller male stated as he pulled him back into the locker rooms, refusing to listen to Minho’s reasons to leave.

            The sound of loud laughter, indistinctive conversations among countless of people, and music blared into Minho’s ears. He sat impatiently on the couch by himself, his leg shaking up and down, checking the time on his watch every other minute. His eyes would wander off occasionally, expecting to find the certain boy he wanted to see so, so damn badly, but Minho knew he wasn’t here—he knew. Secluding himself from the rest, he thought about it for a second, this was the day he decided to ditch his date with Taemin to be here at Jonghyun’s house to party with everyone, to have fun and enjoy himself, but now… now he didn’t feel like being swept along with the crowd with their mindless behavior. Perhaps this was also a dream, maybe he was still knocked out from being drunk, but even if it was a dream, it’d be too vivid to be one.

What am I doing here? I don’t know… waiting to see if things will change?

            Minho then felt a piercing glare coming from his forward direction. He saw the figure from the distance coming straight at him, strutting through the crowd. At first, Minho couldn’t help but tilt his head in wonder, just who is that? Finally, he remembered… “You! What the hell are you doing here?! You know full well who’s waiting for you!” Key hissed, eyes flaring viciously as he stopped before him. Minho recalls this situation but he wasn’t sitting down when Key viciously attacked him verbally. “Are you just going to forget about him and party it up here?”

            That very line repeated like an echo, he’s already heard this before, it was weird hearing it again. Minho’s lips moved automatically, already knowing what Key’s next words would be after he’s going to repeat the same words he said years ago on this day. “Taemin will understand… Besides, I asked him if he wanted to come to the party with me but he said no.”

            The drink in Key’s hand shook from anger, almost spilling. “Understand?! You’re an idiot, you know that? I highly doubt you’ll get a second chance to make up for this important date! If you—”

            Key’s words were drowned out as that phrase imprinted into his head. Second chance… is this… my second chance to make things right? Is that why I’m here? Jumping out of his seat he wrapped his arms around Key without warning, smiling like an idiot. “Thanks, Key! Last time, I ignored your words and was tired of your nagging but now that I’ve heard it a second time… thanks… really.” With that, Minho patted the confused male with red streaks in his hair and dashed out of the party. Key stood there stiff, his shoulders up and high with his arms in close to his chest, his head moved to the right slightly. “Second time?” He repeated as a question.

            It felt like Minho was flying across the streets, all he could think about was getting there—to the spot Taemin promised he’d be at. His chest tightened with anticipation. Will he still be waiting? His mind doubted it; it’s been an hour and a half already, who would still be waiting outside at night in the cold, late autumn air? But still... just to ease his mind and his heart, he had to go see.

            When Minho finally reached his destination, he hesitated at the entrance of the park. How long has it been since he’s seen Taemin? Nine years or so? Minho leaned against the worn out fence, his chest heaving in and out to catch his breath, he watched the fog of air he released disappear and reappear over twenty times already. He didn’t know what to expect anymore, if he entered, would Taemin still be there? Would his feelings even be the same? Minho knew he still had feelings for him, but those nine years… caused him to forget about his ex. Sure, feelings might have lingered but they weren’t strong enough to crave him back.

            He paced back and forth near the gates, inhaling and exhaling trying to get rid of his nervousness. Why was he even nervous? He wasn’t sure. With one reassuring nod, Minho decided that this was probably a dream so things should turn out well, and so he walked in. It took Minho ninety-nine steps to reach the play-ground and to his disappointment, no one was in sight, just the lone wind pushing the swings, making it creak slightly back and forth.

What was I expecting?

            He stuffed his trembling, cold hands into his pockets, turning around to leave as he began to think perhaps this day really wasn’t as important Taemin made it to be. From what Minho could remember, Taemin made such a big deal about this day yet he’s not even here himself. He clicked his tongue in annoyance, shivering as his bare arms prickle with goose-bumps.

I ran out all the here in jeans and a t-shirt for what? Nothing.

            Exiting back out the gates, he went to turn the corner and near that same edge of the fence where he first met Taemin. Little hallucinations of a pair of kids appeared before him, they were versions of them when they were in middle school, bumping into each other at this very corner. He sadly frown as the imaginative figures disappeared and averted his eyes down, not even noticing that a shorter figure was about to bump straight into his chest.

            “Oh! S-sorry, excuse me,” the small, undeniably distinctive voice rang, freezing Minho in his place. The figure took a step back and glanced up, a bright smile immediately appears and with a giddy tone he says “Ah, Minho! You’re finally here!”

            Minho stared blankly at the younger male, and it was funny to him, funny how once you think you’ve moved on from someone, and yet the moment you see them, all the feelings come rushing back like a wave sweeping onto shore. And in that fleeting moment his heart soared, he was terrified—terrified that if he reached out to Taemin, he would disappear—but he found his arms wrapped tightly around the significant other and loud clanging noises were made by their feet. He felt fingers squeezing his shirt.

            “What’s wrong, Minho?” He heard a worried voice from Taemin from under him. Minho suddenly realized that he had stopped breathing for a while. He then placed his hands firmly on Taemin’s shoulders, taking a good look at him. Taemin looked the same as he pictured, well of course he does, the last he saw Taemin was just a few years after high school so that young Taemin was all Minho could vaguely remember. The street light’s seemed to make his complexion sparkle. His face still looked flawless, like it was sculpted, his auburn hair even shined in the light; so, it kind of ticked Minho off to know that he had almost forgotten how breath-taking this person was.

            “Wh-what?” Taemin asked again, his puzzled expression reflected into Minho’s eyes. “Do you think greeting me like this will make me forget that I’m angry because you left me here waiting for a whole hour?” He brought his hand up to flick Minho’s nose, causing Minho to widen his eyes in bewilderment. “Well, of course I am still angry!” Yet he says this with a smile, which couldn’t help but make Minho’s heart flutter and form a smile onto his face as well. He was still attracted to his feistiness, his honesty, and boldness.

            Again, Minho embraced Taemin into his arms, thinking that this must be too good to be true. Minho buried his face into Taemin’s neck, taking in his scent and feeling the cold surface of his skin.  “Okay, okay, what’s up?” Taemin pushed Minho away; the smile was still plastered onto his face, arching a brow.

            “Nothing… Just…” His eyes narrowed and averted to the can of drinks on the ground that dropped earlier, coffee in a can, Minho’s favorite. “I thought about how much I’ve missed you …”

            A moment of silence and Minho glanced up to see why Taemin hadn’t said anything for the past minute, he saw Taemin flushing uncontrollably, turning his head slightly away from embarrassment. A low chuckle came from Minho, “you know, I also missed that cute reaction of yours, too.”

            Taemin punched the taller male in the abdomen, using more force than he had intended to, and replied “you know I don’t like being called cute!”

            Another laugh. “Haha, oh yeah! I almost forgot about that.”

            Returning home he flung himself onto his bed, heart still fluttering, how long has it been since he felt like this? Minho was absolutely positive that only Taemin could make him feel like this. He rolled over in his bed, eyes examining his room, it was funny how this morning this room was empty and lifeless, but now it is filled with his clothes, junk, and everything that defined the young Minho.

            He let out a big relief of air, certain that fate had given him another chance to redo his past mistakes. How fortunate he felt, but curious, he wanted the answer of why this has happened but he didn’t dare question it any longer in fear that things might really just be a dream.

            Minho had the sudden urge to write in his journal. His body relocated to his desk, his sweaty palm from being nervous earlier because of Taemin grabbed hold of a pencil and he began to write… Fear surged into his dark brown eyes as he saw the fresh words glowing, the same glow he saw this morning before the pages swallowed him whole. No, please don’t— was his last thoughts before jolting up from his bed and hearing the birds chirp their morning melodies. His eyes frantically scattered around the room—empty. A room that defined no one resides in this very room any longer. Minho laughed aloud maniacally, dying down as he shook his head. It really was a dream after all is what he concluded, of course it was, who can actually travel back in time? No one.

A lone tear dropped onto his hand.