First of all, I want to apologize for taking so long to update this story. And… I also want to apologize for what I’m about to say 😭
Over the past few months, I’ve realized that writing a series is a lot harder than writing one-shots. I genuinely love this story, but with how busy I’ve been during the last three months, it’s become really difficult for me to keep up with regular updates.
I’ve been thinking about this for a long time, and I don’t want to cancel or delete the story. I love it way too much, and I know some of you have enjoyed it too. Because of that, what I’ve decided to do is write one or two final chapters that will be long (or very long 😭) and include the rest of the story I originally had planned.
If I’m really honest, I never wanted to leave the story unfinished, but I also don’t think I can continue it for much longer in its current format.
That being said, I’m still going to keep posting one-shots, of course 😋. This isn’t me disappearing or quitting writing. I just think it’s the best decision for this story and for me right now.
Thank you so much for all the love and support you’ve given this story. It honestly means a lot to me. I think I’ll be posting one of the final chapters within the next few days or week.
And who knows? Maybe one day I’ll come back with another series and actually finish it this time 😭
Anyway, I hope you all have a lovely week and that you’re doing well. Please take care of yourselves, stay safe, and don’t forget to drink water 🫶
Keonho was your first love , the quiet kind full of shared music and promises about forever. Then one day, he left without a goodbye, leaving behind only rumors and unanswered silence.
Years later, you become a singer known for songs that sound like midnight thoughts and love letters never sent. When CORTIS debuts, you see him again, older, smiling, and living the dream he never told you he was chasing.
Previous masterlist next
Your phone buzzed again.
You had been staring at your screen for the past five minutes, not really working anymore, just rereading the same line without processing it.
You didn’t need to check.
You already knew who it was.
Still, you picked it up.
Hey…Can we talk now?
You stared at the message longer this time.
Your first instinct was to put the phone down again. Not out of anger, just hesitation. Like once you opened that door, you wouldn’t be able to close it the same way.
You exhaled slowly.
“…fine.”
You tapped his contact before you could change your mind.
The phone rang once.
Twice.
On the third, he picked up.
“…hello?”
His voice was quieter than you expected.
For a second, neither of you said anything.
You hadn’t heard his voice like this in over a year. Not through a screen, not through other people, not through memories that kept changing the more you replayed them.
This was real.
“Hi,” you said.
It came out more neutral than you felt.
Another pause.
“Hi,” he repeated.
There was something careful in the way he said it, like he didn’t want to push too much just by speaking.
You looked down at your desk, fingers tracing the edge of it absentmindedly.
“So,” you started, then stopped.
You didn’t even know where to begin.
He let out a small breath on the other end. “I didn’t think you’d actually call.”
“I almost didn’t.”
“…yeah. That makes sense.”
Silence again.
Not empty.
Just heavy.
You leaned back in your chair, staring at the ceiling now.
“You wanted to talk,” you said. “So talk.”
There was a slight shift on his end, like he had straightened up.
“…okay.”
A pause.
“I’m sorry.”
You closed your eyes briefly.
“I know I already said it,” he continued, voice steady but quieter now, “but I don’t think I said it right.”
You didn’t interrupt.
“I didn’t just leave,” he went on. “I avoided you. And I kept avoiding you even when I could’ve said something. That’s on me.”
Your grip tightened slightly around your phone.
“I thought I was doing the right thing,” he admitted. “I told myself it would be easier if I just… disappeared for a bit. That you’d move on faster if I wasn’t there to explain anything halfway.”
You let out a quiet, almost disbelieving breath.
“That was stupid,” he added quickly. “I know that now.”
“You think?” you said, not raising your voice, but the edge was there.
“I do,” he answered without hesitation.
That caught you off guard.
You expected excuses.
You got none.
“I wasn’t scared of you,” he continued. “I was scared of… messing everything up. Saying it wrong. Making things harder for you when I didn’t even know what was going to happen to me.”
You frowned slightly. “So instead you said nothing.”
“…yeah.”
“And that was better?”
“No.”
At least he wasn’t pretending.
You looked down at your hands.
For a moment, neither of you spoke.
Then.
“You don’t get to decide what’s easier for me,” you said.
Your voice wasn’t loud.
But it was firm.
“I know.”
“You don’t get to just disappear and then come back and act like a conversation fixes it.”
“I’m not trying to fix it in one conversation.”
You paused.
“…then what are you doing?”
Another small silence.
“Trying to not run this time.”
That made your chest tighten slightly.
You hated that it did.
You stood up, starting to pace slowly around your room, your free hand running through your hair.
“You hurt me,” you said, more quietly now. “Not just when you left. After. Every time I tried to reach you and you just—didn’t answer.”
“I know.”
“You don’t get to say that like it’s small.”
“I’m not,” he said quickly. “I know it’s not small.”
You stopped walking.
“…then say something that actually explains it.”
There was a longer pause this time.
When he spoke again, his voice was lower.
“I didn’t answer because I didn’t know how to come back after I already left like that.”
You frowned. “That doesn’t make sense.”
“It doesn’t,” he admitted. “But that’s what it was.”
Silence stretched between you again.
You sat back down slowly.
“I kept thinking,” he continued, “if I text now, it’s going to sound fake. Or late. Or like I only cared because I felt guilty. And the longer I waited, the worse it got.”
“…so you just kept waiting.”
“Yeah.”
You let out a quiet breath.
“That’s so…” you shook your head slightly. “That’s so unfair.”
“I know.”
“And now?”
Another pause.
“Now I don’t want to keep doing that.”
You looked down at your phone again.
“And what does that mean for me?” you asked.
It wasn’t aggressive.
It was real.
He didn’t answer immediately.
“…it means I’m not expecting anything from you,” he said finally. “Not forgiveness. Not things going back to how they were.”
Your throat felt tight.
“I just… didn’t want to keep pretending like you didn’t matter.”
That one landed.
Harder than anything else he had said.
You swallowed.
“…you’re late for that.”
“I know.”
At least he kept saying it.
At least he wasn’t fighting you.
You leaned back in your chair again, staring at nothing.
“You really messed it up,” you said after a moment.
“…yeah.”
“And I’m still mad.”
“I figured.”
You let out a small breath, something between a sigh and a weak laugh.
“And I don’t know what to do with this.”
“You don’t have to decide right now,” he said.
Your eyes closed briefly.
“…I hate that you’re being reasonable.”
A small pause.
“…I thought you’d hang up already.”
“I thought about it.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
That almost made him laugh, but it didn’t fully come out.
The silence this time felt different.
Less sharp.
Still careful.
But not breaking.
After a moment, you spoke again.
“…we’re not okay.”
“I know.”
“But… I’m not ignoring you either.”
He didn’t respond immediately.
When he did, his voice was softer.
“…okay.”
It wasn’t relief.
It wasn’t excitement.
Just acceptance.
You nodded slightly, even though he couldn’t see you.
“Slow,” you added.
“Yeah.”
Another pause.
Then.
“Goodnight,” you said.
“…goodnight.”
You stayed on the call for half a second longer before ending it.
The room felt quiet again.
But not like before.
You looked at your phone, your reflection faintly visible on the screen.
Keonho was your first love , the quiet kind full of shared music and promises about forever. Then one day, he left without a goodbye, leaving behind only rumors and unanswered silence.
Years later, you become a singer known for songs that sound like midnight thoughts and love letters never sent. When CORTIS debuts, you see him again, older, smiling, and living the dream he never told you he was chasing.
Previous masterlist next
Quieter.
No mirrors, no counting, no constant corrections. Just the mic, the track, and his own voice coming back through the headphones.
Keonho adjusted them slightly, rolling his shoulders before nodding toward the glass.
“I’m good.”
“From the second verse,” the producer said.
The track started.
The beat of GO! filled his ears, sharper here, more direct. He stepped closer to the mic, grip tightening slightly before he came in.
He didn’t miss.
His timing was clean, his tone steady. No hesitation.
“—cut.”
He pulled one side of the headphones off.
“Again,” the producer said. “It’s good, but don’t hold it back.”
Keonho frowned slightly. “Holding back?”
“You’re doing it right,” the producer continued. “But it sounds careful. This track isn’t careful.”
He nodded once. “Okay.”
They restarted.
This time he pushed more, letting his voice hit harder, less controlled, more direct.
“—cut.”
A short pause.
“Better.”
Keonho exhaled quietly, nodding.
From behind him, Martin clapped once. “There you go.”
“Relax,” Keonho muttered, but there was no real annoyance in it.
Juhoon leaned forward. “First take sounded like you were scared to mess up.”
“I wasn’t.”
“You were,” Seonghyeon said without looking up. “You always do that.”
Keonho didn’t answer immediately.
James spoke from the side, calm. “Second one worked. Just stay there.”
Keonho nodded. “…yeah.”
They ran the chorus once more.
This time it came out easier.
Still focused.
Just less forced.
When it ended, the producer nodded. “That’s it for today.”
The tension in Keonho’s shoulders eased slightly as he stepped back, pulling off the headphones.
Martin stretched. “Finally.”
Juhoon stood up immediately. “I’m starving.”
They started moving toward the door, talking over each other.
Keonho stayed behind for a second, looking at the screen. His name was still there in the track layers.
It didn’t feel unreal anymore.
Just close.
“Teaser drops tomorrow,” Martin said.
“Midnight,” Juhoon added.
Keonho blinked. “Already?”
James glanced at him. “You knew that.”
“I know. It just feels fast.”
“It is,” Seonghyeon said. “Get used to it.”
They kept talking, energy shifting lighter again.
Keonho grabbed his hoodie and slipped it on.
His phone buzzed in his pocket.
He checked it.
Not her.
Just a notification.
He locked it again without thinking too much about it.
“Coming?” James called from the door.
“Yeah.”
Keonho followed them out, turning off the lights behind him.
The studio went quiet.
Tomorrow, people would finally hear them.
And as he walked down the hallway, one thought crossed his mind—
Keonho was your first love , the quiet kind full of shared music and promises about forever. Then one day, he left without a goodbye, leaving behind only rumors and unanswered silence.
Years later, you become a singer known for songs that sound like midnight thoughts and love letters never sent. When CORTIS debuts, you see him again, older, smiling, and living the dream he never told you he was chasing.
previous masterlist next
Your laptop was open, your track paused halfway through while you adjusted small details that didn’t feel right.
Even after a few days, your mind still went back to that night.
Not constantly.
But enough.
The way he looked at you. The way he didn’t really defend himself. The way you said everything you had been holding in for a year without stopping.
You didn’t regret it.
But you hadn’t figured out what came after either.
You didn’t tell your friends. You already knew how that would go , questions, theories, reactions you didn’t feel like dealing with. You weren’t even sure what you felt yet, so explaining it out loud sounded exhausting.
Your head felt heavy, but your hands moved anyway.
That part hadn’t changed.
Your fingers pressed the keys slowly at first, then faster as the rhythm settled in. Writing didn’t fix things, but it made them quieter.
On your screen, the lyrics felt a little too honest.
You read them again, then scrolled.
You leaned back slightly, staring at the screen. “It needs something,” you murmured.
You weren’t sure if it was the words or you.
You started typing again, adding lines, deleting them, rewriting them in a different way. Softer, then sharper. You paused, reread everything, then changed it again.
It wasn’t perfect.
But it was moving.
And that was enough for now.
Still, your thoughts drifted.
You wondered how he was.
Not in a dramatic way, just… casually. Like a thought that showed up without asking. Was he okay? Was he busy? Did he think about what happened or just move on?
You exhaled quietly and shook your head.
“Doesn’t matter.”
You stood up and walked to the bathroom, turning on the light and looking at yourself in the mirror.
“Okay… you look.. tired,” you muttered.
Your hair was messy, slightly tangled. You brushed it out slowly, then washed your face, letting the cold water wake you up a little. After brushing your teeth, you tied your hair loosely and looked at yourself again.
Better.
Not fixed.
Just… better.
You went back to your room, changed into something more comfortable, grabbed your phone, your AirPods, and your card, then headed downstairs.
Your mom was in the living room. She looked up when she heard you.
“You’re going out?”
“Yeah. I need some air.”
She looked at you for a second, like she was about to ask something, but didn’t. “Okay. Call me if you need anything. Love you.”
“Yeah. Love you.”
Outside, the wind hit your face immediately. It wasn’t cold, just strong enough to wake you up a little more. You put your AirPods in and started walking without really deciding where to go.
The park was still full. Kids running around, people talking, couples walking slowly like they had all the time in the world. Everything felt… normal.
You walked past the café you always go to, barely noticing it this time.
Then you saw the bakery.
You walked in.
Warm, quiet, the smell of sugar and coffee immediately settling around you. You stood in line, scrolling through your phone while you waited.
When it was your turn, you stepped forward.
“Hi, good evening. Can I get an iced coffee and a red velvet cake to go, please?”
You paid, waited a few minutes, then grabbed your order and walked back out.
You went to the park again and sat on one of the benches, taking a sip of your coffee before taking a bite of the cake.
For a moment, everything felt simple.
Then your music cut off.
Incoming call: Mom.
You sighed and answered. “Hi, Mom. What happened?”
“Hi, darling… um…”
You straightened slightly. “Something wrong? Do you want me to come back?”
“No, no. It’s just… Keonho called.”
You didn’t react immediately.
“I told him you weren’t here. He said he wanted to talk to you.”
You looked down at your coffee, jaw tightening slightly.
“Okay.”
Your mom paused. “…that’s it?”
“I’m not ignoring him forever,” you said, calm but firm. “Just not right now.”
Another small pause.
“Alright. Just don’t come back too late.”
“I won’t.”
You hung up and stared at your phone for a second before locking it.
You didn’t open his contact.
You didn’t block it either.
You just set your phone down and leaned back slightly against the bench.
You weren’t spiraling.
But it was still there.
That weight.
You took another bite of your cake, slower this time, then opened your notes app instead of your messages.
Your fingers hovered for a second before you started typing.
Not a text.
“You don’t get to knock twice
After closing the door for a year.
You don’t get to say my name
Like it never broke in your mouth.”
You read it once.
Your chest tightened slightly.
Not confusion.
Not anger.
Just something clearer than before.
Maybe you couldn’t hate him.
But that didn’t mean things were okay.
You locked your phone and looked up at the sky for a moment.
im sosososrry for noy being active 😞 school has me so stressed , i has a lot of exams, presentations and projects that i couldn’t do anything for like 3 weeks
obviously you have all probably heard about the situation with heeseung. i’m here to just share my thoughts a bit.
nothing adds up. their contract isn’t over yet, so even if he wanted to leave, wouldn’t he just wait until the end of it? also, the fact that the other members were not informed about his leave makes things feel like it was sudden and not a long term discussion. heeseung has always talked about spending many many more years together as enhypen and engene, so why couldn’t he just go solo while staying in enhypen? he also mentioned that the company guided him to make this choice. they fucking guided him. is that not suspicious?? i genuinely can’t believe that he would just walk out of enhypen when they were basically formed for him. he loves that group with all his heart. so belift has a lot to fucking step up and say.
for now, i will continue to spread this awareness. if mark was able to come back to nct, we can help heeseung come back to enhypen. belift, we want answers.
i know that i don’t stand enhypen anymore but this stills breaks my heart, i cant erase all the love that i had for enhypen, im really so sad and still in shock about the news 🙁🙁
Keonho was your first love , the quiet kind full of shared music and promises about forever. Then one day, he left without a goodbye, leaving behind only rumors and unanswered silence.
Years later, you become a singer known for songs that sound like midnight thoughts and love letters never sent. When CORTIS debuts, you see him again, older, smiling, and living the dream he never told you he was chasing.
Previous Masterlist Next
You go to the dinner.
Keonho isn’t there.
You sit at the table while your mom and his mom talk about random things — school, the neighborhood, how time flies. You nod sometimes, but you’re barely listening. Your eyes stay on your plate.
Out of nowhere, all three of you hear the front door open.
His mom looks up quickly. “Oh, it’s my husband. Don’t worry.”
You let out a small breath.
Then you hear it.
Two voices.
One older. One younger.
Your heart stops.
Your mom freezes. His mom freezes.
Footsteps get closer.
His dad walks into the dining room first, smiling — until he sees you. The smile drops. Right behind him, Keonho steps in.
He stops abruptly when his eyes land on you.
And you look up at the same exact moment.
Eye contact.
Your whole body goes cold.
His mom’s voice comes out panicked. “Keonho… what are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be at practice? Or at the dorm?”
He can hear the panic in her voice.
His dad looks between you and him, clearly realizing he forgot you were coming tonight.
Keonho swallows. “Mm… Dad told me to come have dinner… with you two…”
But he doesn’t stop looking at you.
You drop your gaze back to your plate. Seeing him after a year of silence — without warning — feels unreal. You reach for your mom’s hand under the table and squeeze it hard.
She understands immediately.
“Um… I’m so sorry to interrupt,” your mom says carefully, “but YN has school tomorrow, and it’s pretty late. I think we should go.”
Keonho’s mom nods quickly. “Yeah, it’s late. Don’t worry, I’ll put the plates in the sink and walk you to the door.”
“I’ll help you,” your mom adds, then quietly to you, “Take your things and wait outside if you want.”
You nod.
“Excuse me,” you say softly, giving a small bow before walking past him.
You don’t look at him when you pass. But you feel him there. Right beside you.
He’s still in shock.
Seeing you after a year of ignoring you. Of pretending you didn’t exist.
His mind is loud.
“Go talk to her.
“No, she hates you.”
“She doesn’t want to see you.”
“Try. Just try.”
He’s so lost in his thoughts that he doesn’t hear his father at first.
“Keonho. Go. Maybe it’s the last time you see her. Stop thinking ‘what if.’ Go.”
That’s what moves him.
Outside, you’re standing next to your mom’s car, staring at nothing.
“YN!!”
You turn.
Not angry. Not calm either.
Just tired.
“What.”
“I—… I wanted to talk to you…”
You blink at him.
“Are you for real?”
“I— yes.”
“Are you fucking serious?”
Your voice starts rising before you can stop it.
“After a year of silence? Ignoring me? Ignoring my messages, my calls? After going to another country and not telling me? Coming back and about to become an idol — and now you want to talk to me?”
He says nothing.
“I’m sorry…”
You laugh, but it breaks halfway.
“A simple sorry doesn’t erase a year of fucking pain. A year of asking myself why you left. If we were such ‘best friends,’ why did you leave? You weren’t even capable of sending one message. You left, Keonho. You left me like I didn’t even matter to you.”
Your eyes burn. You try not to cry.
He can see it.
“I know… and I’m sorry.”
“I know I was wrong. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I just didn’t know how to tell you I was training under HYBE. Or that I was going to the U.S. I wanted to tell you, but I was afraid.”
“Afraid of what, Keonho?”
You step closer.
“I always supported you. Always. At school. At your swimming competitions. Everything you did, I was there cheering for you. So don’t tell me you were afraid. You had nothing to be afraid of with me.”
Your voice cracks.
“You walked me home that day. You didn’t say anything. And two hours later you were on a fucking plane to the U.S.”
You’re crying now.
“And even if you couldn’t tell me that day, you had a year. A whole year to say, ‘Hey YN, I’m sorry I was a coward.’ I would’ve forgiven you. Because you were my best friend.”
You imitate his voice for a second, then shake your head.
At this point, you feel destroyed. Because even after everything, you can’t hate him. And that makes you angrier than anything else.
He’s silent.
Looking at the ground.
“I—…” Nothing comes out.
“You want to know the worst thing?” you whisper, wiping your tears.
He looks up quickly.
“Even after a year… I can’t hate you.”
His breath catches.
“Even though I cried since you left. Even though I listened to songs we used to play together and cried asking why you left. Even if ten years pass, I still wouldn’t be able to hate you.”
You’re shaking.
At that moment, both your moms walk outside.
You look at him one last time.
“I think you should go inside.”
He tries. “YN, wait, I—”
“It’s okay. We’ll talk another day… maybe.”
You get into the car.
His mom gently grabs his arm. “I’m sorry… I hope one day we can have a dinner all together again...”
Your mom puts a hand on his shoulder. “It’s okay, Keonho. You two need space right now. I know you’ll talk soon. Go inside. Calm down. Take a shower, okay?”
He nods, eyes red, whispering “sorry” under his breath while looking at you through the window.
You don’t look back.
Your mom gets into the car and starts the engine.
“Are you o-“
“Please drive, Mom.”
you said almost crying again.
She doesn’t ask again.
She just drives.
And you cry the entire way home.
————
im sorry 😞 i always forget to update even if i have the chapter ready😭😭
these past two weeks i been thinking and overthinking about starting school tomorrow
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