Chapter 10: Miles Apart, Inches Away
The tour went on. Stages lit up. Fans screamed. Lights flickered across Hyunjin’s flawless face. But behind the dazzling perfection of the stage, cracks were starting to show — not on the surface, but somewhere deeper. Somewhere only YoungBok could feel.
Hyunjin danced like a machine.
He smiled when the cameras turned on, bowed when they were supposed to, sang his lines perfectly.
But his eyes… they were empty. Hollow.
There were moments — just a few seconds between songs or when the applause died — where he would stare into nothing, lost in a place no one else could reach.
YoungBok noticed. Even in silence, he noticed everything about Hyunjin.
He didn’t want to.
He tried to stay angry. Tried to remember the way Hyunjin had run to her apartment again.
The way he had looked so peaceful sleeping beside her.
The way he had let her steal pieces of him.
But that anger was thinning, wearing out like old thread.
In its place, there was something worse — the fear that Hyunjin was breaking, and YoungBok didn’t know how to fix it.
They still didn’t speak.
Hyunjin stopped trying after the third attempt backstage, when YoungBok brushed past him without a glance.
That night, Hyunjin disappeared for hours after rehearsal.
He didn’t say where he was going.
The manager found him sitting outside the hotel at dawn, just staring at the road like he was waiting for someone who’d never come.
“Where the hell were you?” the manager snapped.
Hyunjin didn’t answer.
Back at the hotel room, he collapsed onto the bed without changing clothes, eyes red and lips trembling.
He was unraveling — slowly, quietly — and it terrified YoungBok more than any fight ever could.
Because Hyunjin was his.
Even when it hurt.
Even when he hated him for what he’d done.
He was still his.
And now, even when they were finally alone — even when Sherri was gone, disappeared from their lives — YoungBok couldn’t feel him anymore.
One night, after another flawless performance, they were alone in the room.
YoungBok was brushing his hair in silence when Hyunjin spoke.
“I can’t breathe.”
YoungBok froze.
“What?”
“I’m trying to be okay.
Trying to be yours.
But I can’t even find myself anymore.”
His voice cracked.
He sat on the edge of the bed, hands gripping the sheets; chest heaving like something inside him was caving in.
“I don’t know where she is. I don’t know if she’s okay. I don’t even know what we were, or what I was. I just— I miss her, and I hate myself for it.”
YoungBok turned away, clenching his fists so hard his knuckles turned white.
“You told me you’d be only mine,” he whispered.
“I know,” Hyunjin breathed, tears finally falling. “But I’m not even mine anymore.”
The room was too quiet. Even the hum of the air conditioner sounded distant.
“I wake up every day, thinking about her voice.
Then I see your face, and I hate myself. Because you’re here, and I’m still so broken.”
YoungBok stared at the floor.
“So what do you want from me, Jinnie?” he said quietly, bitterness bleeding into his tone.
“Forgiveness? Understanding?
Should I hold you while you dream of her? Let you love me half?”
Hyunjin turned to him then, eyes rimmed red.
“No. I want you to hate me. I want you to scream, hit me, push me out — just do something.
Because your silence is killing me.”
YoungBok looked at him — really looked — and for the first time in weeks, he saw how destroyed Hyunjin truly was. Not just sad. Shattered.
Still, he didn’t move.
Instead, he lay down on his side of the bed, back turned. His voice came cold.
“You want something from me I can’t give.”
Hyunjin sat there in the dim light for a long time, wiping his face, trying to steady his breath.
He eventually lay down too, on the opposite edge of the mattress, miles away despite inches apart.
That night, they didn’t speak again.\
And even in the darkness, Hyunjin whispered softly into his own pillow, “I’m sorry… I’m so, so sorry…”
YoungBok didn’t answer.
But his fingers were curled into the sheet, clutching the one thing that didn’t feel like it might disappear if he let go.
---
The days blurred together after that. Schedules were packed, promotions relentless. And still, neither of them spoke more than what was necessary.
The other members noticed.
Chris tried to break the ice once, cracking a joke during dinner, nudging YoungBok toward Hyunjin with a hopeful grin.
YoungBok didn’t even blink.
Hyunjin barely touched his food, poking at rice with his chopsticks until Chris gave up.
Later that night, in the hotel corridor, Chris caught Hyunjin standing still, forehead against the wall, breathing like the air was too thick.
“Talk to him,” Chris said gently.
Hyunjin shook his head, voice breaking. “He doesn’t want me.”
“Maybe not.
But he needs you. And you need him. Don’t let this ruin both of you.”
Hyunjin didn’t answer.
Just slid down the wall and buried his face in his hands.
---
The final night of the tour, they stood side by side waiting for their final stage cue.
YoungBok’s hand brushed Hyunjin’s. Accidentally. Or maybe not.
Hyunjin looked up. YoungBok was staring straight ahead.
But his fingers didn’t move away.
For just a second, Hyunjin closed his eyes and let that small contact anchor him.
After the concert, back in the hotel room, Hyunjin found himself pacing.
He couldn’t sit. Couldn’t lie down. Couldn’t breathe again.
He walked to the balcony, then back.
Finally, he sat on the edge of YoungBok’s bed and whispered, “Do you even care that I’m falling apart?”
YoungBok said nothing.
Didn’t even turn.
So Hyunjin left.
Went out again.
Alone.
---
The next morning, Chris woke YoungBok.
“He’s gone.”
YoungBok’s eyes snapped open.
“What?”
“Hyunjin. He left his phone. Didn’t leave a note. Manager’s pissed.”
Panic settled in YoungBok’s chest.
“He said anything?”
Chris shook his head.
YoungBok sat frozen for a full minute before whispering, “He’s not okay…”
Chris hesitated, then crouched in front of him. “You really think he’d do something… dangerous?”
YoungBok didn’t answer right away. His jaw clenched. His eyes were unfocused, like he was replaying every quiet moment, every tear Hyunjin hadn’t let fall where anyone could see.
“I don’t know,” he said finally. “But if I wait and find out too late… I’ll never forgive myself.”
Chris looked at him carefully. “Do you have any idea where he’d go?”
“Somewhere he can breathe,” YoungBok murmured. “Somewhere far from the noise. Somewhere that hurts less.”
Chris nodded slowly. “You think he still wants to come back?”
YoungBok stood abruptly, heart hammering against his ribs.
“I don’t care,” he said, grabbing his jacket. “I’m going to find him anyway.”
Chris stood too. “I’ll cover for you. Tell the manager you went for air.”
YoungBok nodded, already halfway to the door. But just before he left, he turned back to Chris.
“If he calls… or comes back…”
Chris held up a hand. “You’ll be the first to know.”
YoungBok’s throat tightened. He didn’t say thank you — he just nodded again and walked out.
He didn’t know where he was going.
Only that if he didn’t move now, if he didn’t try…
He might lose Hyunjin forever.