The soft glow of the studio lights gave the room a cozy, golden hue. Photos were scattered all over the walls—candid shots from pre-debut days, silly selfies, group hugs, behind-the-scenes moments from world tours. A small sofa sat center stage, with two microphones clipped on, and cameras quietly rolling from every angle.

Bang Chan stretched his arms behind his head and laughed lightly. “Wow, they really went all out with the memories, huh?” Seungmin sat beside him, arms crossed, eyes scanning the room. “They even put that one photo of you sleeping on the studio floor.”

Chan grinned. “Classic.” They shared a laugh. The kind only two people who have been through everything together could share. The comfort between them was effortless.

For a few minutes, they joked around. Talked about the early dorm days. How Chan used to nag about cleaning. How Seungmin used to secretly stay up to wait for Chan to come back from late-night producing. But as the conversation shifted, a quieter energy settled.

“You know,” Chan said, his voice softening, “I don’t think I ever properly thanked you.” Seungmin looked at him. “For what?”

“For being solid. For being someone I could count on when things got messy. You always acted like you weren’t paying attention… but you were.” Seungmin let out a small, almost embarrassed laugh, but didn’t say anything right away.

“I was always paying attention,” he finally said, a bit quieter.

Chan turned slightly toward him, surprised by the serious tone.

Seungmin’s gaze dropped to his hands. “There were days when you looked tired. Like, really tired. And I’d try to act normal, joke around, complain about food or whatever. But… I noticed everything. I just didn’t know what to do.” The camera picked up the slight shimmer in Seungmin’s eyes.

Chan didn’t interrupt.

“I’m not the emotional one, you know that,” Seungmin added with a forced smile. “But sitting here with you, looking at everything we’ve been through—” His voice broke for just a second. “I guess it just hits different.” He looked away, blinking quickly. “Sorry. I don’t usually…”

Chan reached over, resting a hand gently on Seungmin’s back. “You don’t need to say sorry. It means a lot to hear it.”

Seungmin nodded, still facing away. A quiet tear slipped down, unnoticed by anyone but the camera and Chan.

“I care about you a lot, hyung,” he whispered. “Even if I act cold sometimes.”