“In short, you’re an idiot.” Seojoon, sitting across the café table, watched him blankly while sipping his cappuccino.
“I’m not an idiot!”
“You agreed to be the best man for the guy you’ve been drooling over for… what? A year?”
“That guy is my best friend.”
“No. I’m your best friend. Jiwoon is the guy you want to sleep with.”

Hanjae rolled his eyes with a huff. “If you weren’t so cynical, maybe we’d still be together.”
“Oh, sure. With you pining over someone else? Right. But hey—the sex was great.”

“Seojoon!” Hanjae went pale, glancing around before lowering his voice. “Could you not shout that out? You know we can’t.”
“It’s the twenty-first century. People should just get a life.”

Hanjae sighed, staring down at his latte, stirring the now-cold foam. It had been just over a week since he’d seen that ring. Today was Saturday.
“So? What are we doing tonight?” Seojoon asked, snapping him out of his thoughts.
“Huh?”
“It’s Saturday. And you really thought I’d let you sit here sulking while Jiwoon proposes to his boyfriend? Come on. Let’s hit a club. Or a pub, whatever.”

A small smile tugged at Hanjae’s lips. “Thanks, Seojoon…”
But Seojoon didn’t reply right away. His gaze was fixed on the TV hanging above the bar.
“...Uh, Tae?”
“Hm?”
Seojoon raised a finger, pointing at the screen. “Isn’t that Jiwoon’s fiancé?”

Hanjae turned, curious. Then froze. His eyes widened.
That unmistakable bluish hair. Lips pressed hard against those of a much older man, his face hidden beneath the brim of a cap.
It was Minji.
The image wasn’t crystal clear, but anyone who knew him couldn’t mistake it.

Across the bottom of the screen, bold, threatening letters scrolled:
“YU Entertainment executive caught in relations with aspiring idols under his company.”

“N-no… no way…”

Hanjae shot to his feet, heart hammering in his chest. He grabbed his phone, his fingers moving on their own. He dialed.
The number you have dialed is currently unavailable.

A hollow thud, like something dropping inside his chest. The anxiety suffocated him.
He searched for “Minji” in his contacts. It rang.
Once.
Twice.

“H-Hanjae…”
Minji’s voice was hoarse, ragged. He’d been crying—maybe screaming. Or both.
“What the hell happened?! Where’s Jiwoon?!”
Minji broke down again. “I… I don’t know! He yelled, threw his phone at the wall… He didn’t let me explain, he wouldn’t listen! I swear it’s not what it looks like! Please, Hanjae, you have to help us! You have to make him listen, it can’t all end like this—”
“Right now I don’t give a damn about you, Minji. I just want to find Jiwoon.”

He hung up. Threw on his coat, gave Seojoon a quick nod, and rushed out of the café.

The rain hit him like a slap. The sky hung low and gray, the air heavy with tension.
He called Jiwoon, but no answer. Tried their old group chat. Nothing. Then he froze. There was only one place he could be.

He found him there.
Sitting on the steps of the old gym where they used to train together, back when they were just kids with dreams.
Drenched, motionless. Shoulders slumped, head buried in his hands. A tight knot of silence and pain.

Hanjae slowed his pace, chest aching.
“Jiwoon…”
Jiwoon didn’t look up. But he felt him. His body trembled.
“Jiwoon, please… look at me…”

He did. Slowly. His face swollen from crying, eyes red, burning like they had caught fire.
“Was it all a lie?” His voice cracked. “Every time he said he was working… was he with him instead? Those late nights, those excuses… all that shit… was it him?”

Hanjae’s throat closed. He knelt before him, knees soaking on the wet pavement.
“I don’t know why he did it, Jiwoon. I don’t know what’s behind it. But you… you’re not to blame. You didn’t do anything wrong. You weren’t the one who wasn’t enough.”

Jiwoon shook his head, tears streaming endlessly. “I believed everything. Like an idiot. I had it all ready. The ring… the letter… I even wrote a song for him…”

Hanjae took his hands, clasping them tight—cold and wet against his own.
“You are enough. More than enough. And I’m here. I won’t leave you.”

For a moment, Jiwoon collapsed forward, his face pressed against Hanjae’s shoulder. He sobbed, unrestrained.
And Hanjae held him close. Silent.
Because sometimes, the only thing you can do for someone you love… is stay.