The storm didn't come with thunder.
It came with silence. And then a single crack.
---
Eun Jae-hyun couldn't sleep.
The unknown number had stopped texting—but the chill it left hadn't faded. He sat in the dark rehearsal room, hoodie drawn tight over his head, earphones in but no music playing.
He just needed the world to shut up for a minute.
The door opened behind him.
"Jae?"
Minwoo.
Jae-hyun didn't turn around. "How did you know I was here?"
Minwoo stepped closer. "You always come here when your thoughts get too loud."
Jae-hyun flinched.
That was the problem. Minwoo knew him too well. Saw through him like the glass walls of the control booth. Every flaw, every frequency, every fumble.
"I was worried," Minwoo added gently. "You didn't come to practice. You didn't text. I thought—"
"I needed space," Jae-hyun said, too quickly.
Minwoo blinked. "From me?"
Jae-hyun finally turned. "From everything."
Minwoo crossed his arms. "Jae-hyun, if you're scared—if something's going on—you need to talk to me."
"I don't want to talk."
"Well too bad," Minwoo said, frustration bleeding into his voice. "Because I'm not going to sit here and pretend everything's okay when it's not."
Jae-hyun's jaw tightened. "Why do you always do this?"
"Do what?"
"Act like you're protecting me when all you're doing is making it worse."
Minwoo recoiled. "Excuse me?"
Jae-hyun stood. "You showed up with your perfect timing, your songs, your charm, and suddenly everyone forgot who built this band—who kept it alive while you flaked out and broke hearts."
Minwoo stared at him, stunned. "You think I'm some...some distraction?"
"I think I'm losing everything, and you're making it harder to breathe."
The silence cracked.
Minwoo took a shaky breath, voice low. "I've been trying. Every day. With a broken leg, with Jiho watching you like you're still his, with my own fear that I'm not enough for you—and you're saying I'm the problem?"
"You are!" Jae-hyun yelled. "You make me feel things I don't want to feel. You make me care. And that scares me more than Jiho, more than that text, more than—anything."
His voice broke.
"I don't know how to love someone like you," he whispered.
Minwoo's eyes shone, but not from tears. From betrayal.
"Then don't."
The words hit like a slap. Cold. Brutal. Final.
Jae-hyun's lips parted. "Minwoo—"
"No," Minwoo said, backing away. "If you think I'm just another storm in your life, then fine. I'll be the silence instead."
He limped toward the door, the sound of his crutch tapping across the floor loud enough to crack Jae-hyun's ribs.
"I never asked you to love me back," Minwoo said without turning around. "But I never thought you'd throw me away like this."
And then he was gone.
Jae-hyun stood in the quiet, his chest caving in, heart pounding in his throat.
He wanted to chase him.
To say I didn't mean it. I'm scared. Stay.
But he couldn't move.
The silence that followed was deafening.
Just like the beginning.