The TBS Practice Studio — Seoul
"Jeon J… are you okay? You're late today."
The moment Jeon J stepped into the practice room, Kim Joon was already on his feet. His voice was calm, but the concern in his eyes was impossible to hide.
"You overslept?" he asked with a small smile, trying to lighten the mood. "Whatever it is, we'll talk later. The concert's getting close, so let's get started."
Jeon J didn't answer.
Without looking at anyone, he walked past them in silence.
He placed his bag on the side table, pulled his charger from the front pocket, and plugged his phone into the socket near the wall before quietly slipping it onto the table.
The room fell completely silent.
Every pair of eyes followed him.
Confusion.
Concern.
Unease.
Something was wrong.
No one said it aloud, but everyone felt it.
Jeon J was always the first one to arrive.
Always.
Even on days when the others barely managed to drag themselves out of bed, he would already be stretching, warming up, or practising alone.
Today...
He had walked in last.
And somehow, that felt far more unsettling than it should have.
His usual quiet confidence was gone.
The calm fire that always lived behind his eyes had dimmed, replaced by an exhaustion none of them had ever seen before.
For a brief moment, Hosu stepped directly into his path.
He searched Jeon J's face, hoping to find some explanation hidden there.
Jeon J stopped.
For a heartbeat, neither of them spoke.
Then Jeon J quietly stepped around him and walked to the centre of the room.
"I'm fine," he said softly.
His voice was steady...
but empty.
"Let's practice."
No one believed him.
Still, they exchanged silent glances before taking their positions.
If he wanted space...
They would give it to him.
The music began.
The familiar beat echoed through the studio.
Normally, Jeon J became someone else the moment the first count started.
His movements were sharp.
Precise.
Powerful.
He noticed every mistake before anyone else did.
He corrected others without making them feel embarrassed.
He carried the entire team's energy as naturally as breathing.
But today...
Everything was different.
His timing lagged by the smallest fraction.
His turns lacked their usual certainty.
Even his breathing sounded heavier.
It wasn't obvious enough for outsiders to notice.
But to the six people who had spent years dancing beside him—
It was impossible to miss.
He wasn't leading the choreography.
He was surviving it.
Yomin noticed first.
His brows drew together as he silently watched Jeon J complete another sequence.
Hosu noticed moments later.
Then Jinhun.
One after another, every member realized the same thing.
Something inside him was breaking.
Still...
Nobody interrupted.
Maybe he was exhausted.
Maybe he hadn't slept.
Maybe the pressure of the upcoming concert had finally caught up with him.
Everyone had difficult days.
They would finish rehearsal first.
Then they'd talk.
Or so they thought.
Halfway through the next routine—
Jeon J suddenly stopped moving.
The music continued.
The others froze instinctively.
For a second, he stood there, staring at the polished wooden floor beneath his feet.
Then his knees slowly gave way.
He sank.
Not dramatically.
Not all at once.
Just...
as though his body no longer had the strength to keep carrying what his heart had been holding.
Without a word, he lay back against the floor.
One arm covered his eyes.
The music stopped.
Silence rushed into the room.
"Jeon J!"
Kim Joon reached him first.
The others hurried after him, surrounding him without crowding too close.
No response.
Only the sound of uneven breathing.
Fast.
Shallow.
As though every breath hurt.
Kim Joon knelt beside him.
"Jeon J..."
Still nothing.
No answer.
No movement.
Then—
Yomin's gaze fell to the side of Jeon J's face.
Something shimmered beneath his wrist.
At first, he thought it was sweat.
But another drop escaped.
It slid silently across his temple before disappearing into his hair.
Yomin's expression changed.
"...He's crying."
The words barely rose above a whisper.
The room froze.
No one moved.
No one spoke.
Hosu slowly crouched beside him.
Carefully...
He reached for Jeon J's wrist, hoping to lower the arm covering his face.
But before he could...
Jeon J tightened his grip.
His hand refused to move.
He didn't want anyone to see him like this.
That single gesture hurt more than the tears themselves.
Because Jeon J—
The one who always stood first...
The one who carried everyone else...
The one who never allowed himself to fall—
Was trying desperately to hide the fact that he already had.
No one tried again.
Instead...
The six of them quietly sat down around him.
No questions.
No pressure.
Just silent company.
The practice room, usually filled with music and laughter, had become painfully still.
Memories drifted through each of their minds.
Back when they were trainees...
Crying wasn't unusual.
There had been failed auditions.
Empty bank accounts.
Sleepless nights.
Dreams that felt impossibly far away.
Back then, they had cried together.
And every single time...
Jeon J had been the first to stand back up.
The first to smile.
The first to say,
"We'll make it."
Today...
For the first time...
He couldn't.
Kim Joon slowly crouched in front of Jeon J, his voice calm, as though speaking too loudly might shatter whatever strength remained.
"Jeon J... should I come home with you today? Or maybe one of us can stay with you tonight?"
No answer.
Jeon J kept his eyes fixed on the floor.
Silence settled over the practice room once again.
Minjo finally let out an impatient sigh.
"Will you at least say something?"
Kim Joon raised a hand, quietly stopping him.
"Give him time."
Then he looked back at Jeon J.
"Alright... then you're coming with me after practice. No arguments."
Before Jeon J could respond, Hosu spoke.
"I'm coming too."
Teahun nodded immediately.
"Me as well."
Kim Joon looked at the two of them, one eyebrow lifting slightly.
It wasn't difficult to guess what was happening.
Neither of them trusted Jeon J to be alone tonight.
For a brief moment, the heaviness in the room softened.
"...Fine," Kim Joon sighed.
"The three of us will go together."
He pushed himself to his feet.
"Let's cancel today's practice."
"No."
The single word stopped everyone.
Every head turned toward Jeon J.
He slowly stood.
His face still looked pale.
His eyes were swollen from crying.
But the determination that had disappeared only minutes ago had quietly returned.
"We'll practice."
Jinhun frowned.
"Are you sure?"
Jeon J inhaled slowly before answering.
"I'm sure."
A faint, exhausted smile appeared on his lips.
"And... please stop asking if I'm okay."
His gaze drifted across every member standing there.
"I don't have an answer."
The room fell silent again.
No one asked another question.
Sometimes...
The kindest thing friends can do is stop searching for explanations.
Sometimes, simply staying beside someone is enough.
Kim Joon walked toward the sound system once more.
Without another word, the music began again.
This time...
Nobody focused on perfection.
Nobody cared about synchronisation.
Today wasn't about becoming better performers.
It was about making sure one of their own didn't have to carry everything alone.
For the next two hours, they danced.
Whenever Jeon J slowed down, someone naturally matched his pace.
Whenever he missed a step, nobody pointed it out.
Not because they hadn't noticed...
But because some wounds deserved patience instead of correction.
By the time practice ended, sweat covered every one of them.
The exhaustion felt different now.
Lighter.
Not because the pain had disappeared...
But because it was finally being shared.
Later That Evening — Kim Joon's Apartment
The winter air had grown colder by the time they reached Kim Joon's apartment.
Their breath turned into small white clouds before disappearing into the night.
Inside, however, warmth welcomed them immediately.
The apartment smelled faintly of detergent, roasted garlic, and fresh ginger.
It felt peaceful.
Safe.
Jeon J quietly walked into the living room and lay down across the sofa without saying a word.
One arm rested over his eyes.
He wasn't asleep.
He simply didn't want to look at the world for a while.
Meanwhile, the kitchen slowly came alive.
Teahun rolled up his sleeves dramatically.
"Tonight," he announced proudly, "I refuse to let anyone eat instant food."
Hosu laughed.
"Since when did you become a professional chef?"
"Since winter arrived."
Teahun pointed confidently toward the stove.
"Chicken soup isn't food."
"It's therapy."
Kim Joon chuckled while taking vegetables out of the refrigerator.
"Listen to him."
"He sounds like he's about to host a cooking documentary."
"I'm serious," Teahun protested.
"A proper bowl of soup fixes half the problems in life."
"And the other half?" Hosu asked.
Teahun grinned.
"We'll solve those after dinner."
The kitchen filled with quiet laughter.
From the sofa, Jeon J listened silently.
The ordinary sounds—
The chopping of vegetables.
Running water.
Cabinet doors opening and closing.
The soft conversations drifting from the kitchen.
They wrapped around him like a blanket.
For the first time since morning...
His breathing became a little steadier.
Then—
Ding Dong.
The doorbell echoed through the apartment.
"I'll get it," Hosu said, drying his hands before walking toward the entrance.
Jeon J didn't even move.
He assumed it was the food delivery.
Hosu unlocked the door.
The moment it opened—
"Yah!"
"You seriously started without us?"
Jinhun's cheerful voice exploded through the hallway.
Behind him stood Yomin and Minjo, each carrying grocery bags and wearing identical guilty smiles.
Hosu blinked.
"...You three came together?"
Jinhun shrugged.
"The house was too quiet."
Minjo smiled.
"And honestly..."
He lifted one of the shopping bags.
"We knew none of you remembered dessert."
The apartment instantly felt louder.
Warmer.
Full again.
Kim Joon walked out of the kitchen and laughed.
"I had a feeling you'd all end up here."
"Good."
Minjo placed the bags on the counter.
"Because we're starving."
Kim Joon smiled as he looked around the now crowded apartment.
"Perfect."
"Looks like dinner just got bigger."
Minjo immediately rolled up his sleeves.
"Then I'll help."
Teahun turned around so quickly it almost looked rehearsed.
"Excellent."
He pointed toward the sink.
"Your station is over there."
Minjo frowned.
"...My station?"
"The bowls."
Teahun nodded with complete seriousness.
"They're waiting for you."
Minjo looked into the sink.
Five bowls.
Three plates.
Two pots.
He slowly turned back.
"You planned this."
"I absolutely did."
The kitchen burst into laughter.
"You only invited me to wash dishes!"
Teahun folded his arms proudly.
"No."
"I invited you because you're experienced."
"Experienced?"
"Of course."
"You've been officially promoted."
"Promoted to what?"
"Our permanent dishwashing specialist."
Everyone laughed again.
Minjo pointed accusingly.
"I knew it."
"I knew this friendship came with hidden conditions."
Hosu leaned against the counter, trying not to laugh.
"He's not wrong."
Teahun looked offended.
"I value him."
Minjo narrowed his eyes.
"You value my cleaning."
"Same thing."
Kim Joon laughed so hard he nearly dropped the ladle.
"Just wash the bowls."
"They won't wash themselves."
Minjo sighed dramatically.
"If my parents could see me now..."
"They'd be proud," Yomin replied with a completely straight face.
"Learning life skills."
Jinhun nodded in agreement.
"Character development."
Minjo looked around in disbelief.
"I came here to comfort our friend."
"And somehow..."
"I'm the one doing community service."
The room erupted with laughter once more.
Even Jeon J, lying quietly on the sofa, couldn't stop the small smile that appeared on his face.
Teahun noticed immediately.
"There it is."
"The smile finally showed up."
Everyone instinctively looked toward Jeon J.
Realising they had all caught him smiling, he quietly shook his head.
"You people are impossible."
Kim Joon smiled warmly.
"That's exactly why we work."
No one replied.
No one needed to.
They had spent years together.
Long enough to know that sometimes laughter could reach places words never could.
Soon the soup was ready.
Steam curled gently from the large pot as Teahun proudly carried it to the dining table.
He placed it down like a chef presenting his greatest masterpiece.
"Gentlemen..."
"Dinner is served."
The rich aroma of chicken, ginger, garlic, and vegetables instantly filled the apartment.
Hosu took one deep breath.
"I haven't even tasted it yet..."
"...and I'm already impressed."
"You should be," Teahun replied confidently.
"I cooked with love."
Minjo picked up a spoon.
"We'll decide whether it was love..."
"...or attempted murder."
Teahun gasped dramatically.
"You wound me."
Kim Joon laughed.
"Sit down before the soup gets cold."
One by one, they gathered around the table.
No cameras.
No managers.
No schedules.
No fans watching every movement.
Just seven friends sharing dinner after a difficult day.
For a little while...
The world outside simply disappeared.
Meanwhile — The Share House, Busan
Han, maine is part ko dhyān se dobara read kiya. Is scene ka core emotion bahut powerful hai, lekin mujhe do jagah lagta hai ke emotion aur zyada gehra ho sakta hai.
Zoya sirf Minji se compare nahi kar rahi, woh apni aur Jeon J ki duniya ke beech ka faasla dekh rahi hai.
Dua aur Jeon J ka parallel aur subtle hona chahiye. Aisa lage ke Allah un dono ke dilon ko sukoon de raha hai, na ke koi magical connection ho raha ho.
Main isi emotion ko preserve karte hue is part ko novel quality mein improve kar raha hoon.
Meanwhile — The Share House, Busan
The share house was unusually quiet.
First-term examinations were only a few days away, and every corner of the house reflected the same determination. Books lay open across desks, notes covered the tables, and highlighters rested between pages that still had far too much left to learn.
After returning from university and their part-time jobs, Hana, Ruhi, and Zoya had settled down to study.
From the outside, everything looked normal.
Peaceful.
Ordinary.
But beneath that silence, each of them was carrying a different burden.
The misunderstanding between Minji and Zoya had already been resolved. Anyone looking at them now would have believed nothing had ever happened.
Only Zoya knew that something else had quietly taken its place.
A textbook lay open before her.
The same page had remained untouched for almost twenty minutes.
She wasn't reading.
She sat beside the bedroom window, watching the winter lights of Busan shimmer beneath the dark sky.
Minji's words refused to leave her mind.
"You belong beside someone as beautiful as her..."
She closed her eyes.
Almost instantly...
another voice answered.
Not someone else's.
Her own.
The part of herself that always spoke the truths she tried hardest to silence.
"What are you thinking?"
"...Nothing."
The answer came too quickly.
After a pause, she whispered,
"Just... what Minji said."
Her reflection smiled sadly.
"You can't stop thinking about it, can you?"
"Is it really that easy..."
"...to hand the person you love to someone else?"
Zoya lowered her eyes.
"They look good together."
The words hurt more than she expected.
Her reflection didn't argue.
Instead, it asked quietly,
"And where do you see yourself?"
Zoya didn't answer.
She couldn't.
After a long silence, she finally whispered,
"She's beautiful."
Another question came immediately.
"And you're not?"
Slowly...
she shook her head.
"No."
"I know she's beautiful."
"But that's not why."
A tear gathered in her eyes.
Her reflection waited patiently.
Zoya looked back out of the window.
"They speak the same language."
"They grew up in the same country."
"They understand each other's culture."
"They don't have to explain the little things."
A faint smile appeared on her lips.
Painfully gentle.
"They belong to the same world."
The room became silent again.
"So yes..."
"They could become the world's dream couple."
"Natural."
"Beautiful."
"Effortless."
Another tear slipped down her cheek.
"But..."
Her reflection leaned closer.
"But what?"
Zoya laughed softly.
It wasn't a happy laugh.
It sounded more like surrender.
"This afternoon..."
"I couldn't even use chopsticks."
The words sounded so small.
So insignificant.
Yet they carried everything she couldn't explain.
"It wasn't about the chopsticks."
"It was what they reminded me of."
Her fingers tightened around the edge of the book.
"If I couldn't even overcome something as small as that..."
"...how could I ever bridge the distance between our worlds?"
Language.
Culture.
Customs.
Expectations.
Every difference suddenly felt larger than it really was.
She wasn't crying because she had dropped a few strands of spaghetti.
She was crying because, for the first time...
she had seen just how impossible the distance between them felt.
Her reflection remained quiet.
Then it asked one final question.
"So... are you giving up?"
Zoya slowly shook her head.
"No."
"I'm letting him go."
"They aren't the same thing."
"If Allah has written someone who can stand beside him more easily than I ever could..."
"...then I pray he finds her."
A tear rolled silently down her face.
"Because loving someone..."
"...also means wanting peace for them."
Even if that peace never included you.
The room fell silent once again.
Zoya slowly raised her hands.
Her eyes closed.
Her voice became no more than a whisper.
"Ya Rabb..."
At the Same Time — Kim Joon's Apartment
The apartment echoed with laughter.
The members continued talking over one another while dinner simmered gently in the kitchen.
Yet amidst the warmth...
Jeon J sat quietly on the sofa.
A glass of water rested loosely in his hand.
He heard the laughter.
But it felt strangely distant.
As though everyone else existed on the other side of an invisible wall.
"Grant peace to the hearts fighting battles no one else can see."
Without understanding why...
his shoulders relaxed ever so slightly.
"Ease the pain they cannot put into words."
He closed his eyes.
A slow breath escaped his lips.
The tightness in his chest loosened just a little.
"Wipe away the tears they hide from the world."
His vision blurred.
A single tear formed before he quietly brushed it away.
No one noticed.
Just the way he wanted.
"Give them strength, Ya Allah... to breathe again."
His fingers loosened around the glass.
He looked down at it for a long moment.
Then, without thinking...
he gently placed it on the table.
Not because he had finished drinking.
But because, for the first time that day...
he no longer needed something to keep his hands occupied.
He simply sat there.
Breathing.
Quietly.
Back in Busan...
Zoya whispered the final words of her prayer.
"Guide every heart toward whatever You have written."
She paused.
Then, with the gentlest smile...
"...Ameen."
Almost soundlessly, she added,
"...For him."
At that very moment...
Jeon J lifted his eyes toward the window.
He didn't know why.
He only knew that the storm inside him had become quieter.
Not gone.
Just...
quieter.
Outside, the same winter sky stretched above both Busan and Seoul.
Two cities.
Two hearts.
One Merciful Lord listening to both.
Neither of them knew what tomorrow would bring.
But tonight...
Their hearts had both found a moment of peace.
To be continued....
Regards
ZK💌