(UPDATED ON APRIL 28, 2026)

heeseung’s nostrils flared as he dragged in a sharp breath, the powder vanishing too fast, like it always did. he leaned back against the couch, head tipping, blinking like the room had suddenly turned too bright. his heartbeat kicked up, loud and uneven, that rush hitting him again. quick. familiar. dangerous in a way he pretended not to notice.

you stayed where you were, perched on the arm of the couch, watching him like you’d seen this movie too many times and already knew the ending.

he exhaled slow, lips curving into that lazy, practiced smile. the one he wore after shows, after crowds, after the noise died and something emptier crept in.

it didn’t look as cool as he thought it did. not from where you were sitting.

“you liked the show, babe?”

his voice came out rough, like it had been scraped against too many screams and too little rest. he tilted his head toward you, eyes half-lidded, searching your face for something. approval, maybe. or distraction.

you didn’t answer right away.

the silence stretched, thin and tight.

“you were good,” you said finally, quiet. “you always are.”

he hummed, satisfied for half a second, like that was enough to hold him together. but it didn’t last. it never really did.

his fingers tapped against his thigh, restless even as his body tried to sink into the couch. the high was there, sure, buzzing under his skin, but it didn’t fill the cracks. it just blurred them.

you watched the way his shoulders slumped, the way his smile flickered like a bad signal.

“you gonna keep doing this every time?” you asked, not harsh, just… tired.

heeseung let out a small laugh, dry, like he didn’t want to take the question seriously. “doing what?”

you raised an eyebrow. “don’t do that.”

he looked away for a second, jaw tightening. there it was. the part he didn’t like anyone seeing.

“it’s nothing,” he muttered. “just helps me chill.”

“does it?” you tilted your head slightly. “or does it just make everything louder later?”

that landed. you could tell by the way he stilled.

for a moment, the room felt heavier than before, like the air itself was pressing down.

heeseung ran a hand through his hair, messing it up more than it already was. “you worry too much.”

“someone has to,” you shot back, softer than it sounded.

he looked at you again, really looked this time, like he was trying to figure out why you were still here. most people didn’t stick around for this part. they liked the stage, the lights, the version of him that didn’t come with shadows.

“you could just leave, you know,” he said, voice quieter now. “would be easier.”

you shrugged, crossing your arms lightly. “yeah. but i didn’t.”

another pause. longer this time.

the high was still there, but it felt different now. thinner. less convincing.

heeseung sighed, leaning his head back, staring at the ceiling like it might give him answers it never did. “you’re annoying.”

you smirked just a little. “and you’re a mess.”

“…fair.”

for a second, something almost honest flickered between you two. not pretty, not clean, but real.

and somehow, that mattered more than whatever rush he’d been chasing.