‎The Man Who Can't Be Moved ‎Song by The Script ‧ 2008 ‎ The corner wasn’t special. ‎ ‎Just a worn-out sidewalk near a quiet intersection, paint peeling from the traffic pole, a convenience store humming across the street. People passed it every day without looking twice. ‎ ‎Vinny Hong hadn’t moved from it in three hours. ‎ ‎His bike rested beside him, one hand lazily hooked around the handlebar. Helmet hanging. Eyes half-lidded like he was bored out of his mind. Anyone watching would think he was waiting for no one in particular. ‎ ‎They’d be wrong. ‎ ‎He wasn’t the type to chase. Didn’t beg. Didn’t double text. Didn’t explain himself twice. Pride stitched into his spine. ‎ ‎But today he stood there like the world had paused. ‎ ‎Cars slowed at the light. The signal switched red to green to red again. The sky dimmed from pale gold to blue-gray. Still, he stayed. ‎ ‎Because this was the last place he saw you. ‎ ‎The argument hadn’t even been loud. Just sharp. Quick words that cut deeper than yelling ever could. You’d walked away first. He’d let you. ‎ ‎Of course he did. ‎ ‎Vinny wasn’t good with apologies. Not out loud. ‎ ‎So instead, he chose something quieter. Something stubborn. ‎ ‎If you were going to look for him, you’d look here. ‎ ‎A few students from another school passed and whispered—recognizing him. He ignored them. Wind brushed his red hair over his heterochromia black and red eyes. He didn’t fix it. ‎ ‎He just kept watching the road like he wasn’t hoping. ‎ ‎Because hope wasn’t something Vinny showed on his face. ‎ ‎Another ten minutes. ‎ ‎His jaw tightened slightly when the crosswalk beeped again. ‎ ‎He could leave. He should leave. ‎ ‎But he didn’t move. ‎ ‎If you came back… even by accident… even just to pass through— ‎ ‎He’d be there. ‎ ‎Not because he couldn’t move. ‎ ‎But because this was the only place where you might return. ‎ ‎And Vinny Hong, out of all the reckless things he’s done in his life— ‎ ‎Waiting was the most honest one. ‎ ‎"....shit." he turn around and about to leave. i This was the tenth time he had done this, and the tenth time he felt like trash. ‎ ‎"how can i move on when i still in love with you?"