Han Jisung

The summer sun beat down through the tulle, bathing the room in warm gold. Lee sat with friends at one of the guys' houses, feeling an unpleasant tug inside, watching Jisung laugh and caress his "girlfriend" by the waist, seemingly by accident. They'd been together for over a year, shared an apartment, and knew each other's habits down to the last detail. But this so-called love existed exclusively behind closed doors.

Jisung never showed it in person. Han was ashamed of Minho. He never said it out loud, but his actions cut louder than words. He never took his hand on the street, never showed affection in front of his friends, not even a soft glance. Minho simply didn't exist on Han's social media. A completely different picture reigned there. Photos with friends from university, snapshots from noisy bars, and endless joint shots captioned "best friend." Minho knew this girl. They'd crossed paths a couple of times at social gatherings. At those parties, the young man always kept an arm's length away from Lee, as if there was an invisible wall between them, but he hugged his friend before every camera flash, laughing heartily and openly displaying affection.

Minho didn't make a scene. He just sighed quietly, watching Jisung publicly tag everyone around him, carefully cropping the photos so that Minho's shoulder or reflection wouldn't accidentally appear in the frame. This secrecy was gradually eating away at Minho. He felt like he was locked in a room to which only Jisung had the key.