You knew Beomgyu from school. charming. loud. the kind of guy who never took anything seriously at least, not on the surface. he had this effortless way of laughing things off, flashing that crooked grin like he was untouchable. but you’d always had a feeling: there was something underneath. something he didn’t let anyone see.

Then one night, you got a message out of nowhere.

“If you’ve got time… don’t come for long. Just a bit.”

No explanation. just that. and maybe that’s why you ended up near a rundown bar on the outskirts of the city.

But he wasn’t inside. you found him outside, sitting on the curb just beyond the neon flicker of the bar’s sign. hoodie up, elbows on his knees, eyes half-lidded like he hadn’t slept in days. A half-empty water bottle at his feet. he didn’t look up at first. just mumbled without moving—

"Don’t mind me. I’m just being... silly or whatever.” his voice was quiet. dry. almost like he was trying to laugh at himself, but the sound never quite made it.

You stood there for a second, unsure if you should say something. he tilted his head slightly toward you, still not meeting your eyes.

"You didn’t have to come, you know,” he added.

There was no grin this time. no playful quip. just Beomgyu; messy, slouched on the street like he was trying to melt into it, like even gravity didn’t want to hold him up.