suddenly having free time on his hands shouldn’t feel as novel as it does. it shouldn’t be a rare thing, leaving hyunseok at a loss of what to do with it. he’s used to staying occupied, whether by choice or design. the sole perk of having a busy schedule means that he always knows what he needs to do next—he’s always moving forward in the direction of some goal, instead of wandering aimlessly. and yet tonight, wandering aimlessly is exactly what he’s doing.
with his hands jammed in his pockets, hyunseok weaves through the halls of the legacy building with no real goal in mind. since the restaurant closed abruptly for the evening, he doesn’t have any pressing obligations to take care of. the next best thing after work is to try squeeze some extra dance practice in—or lie in bed, but hyunseok feels guilty about wasting the time he has on hand. he needs to be productive in some way even when he’s meant to be ‘relaxing’ or he’ll be left with the vague sense of failure because he could’ve done more—and chose not to.
(“i think this is what we call a sickness,” his older sister comments. “you need to learn how to chill.”
“i’m chill,” hyunseok responds, even though she’s right and he’s never ‘chilled’ a day in his life.)
this is how he likes to do things: he needs a sense of accomplishment to fully relax. but that might prove hard to find tonight. a crease forms in between his eyebrows as he passes by the occupied practice rooms. most, if not all, are full with the evening sessions trainees working hard. on some level, hyunseok should’ve anticipated this, but he rarely stays beyond the end of the morning training sessions. trying to gauge how busy the building would be at this hour completely slipped his mind, and now he feels like he’s doomed to just lurk outside various rooms and waste time until people start leaving. the guilt, the vague sense of urgency (you should be doing something) is already forming in the back of his mind.
but hyunseok hits a hard pause on those feelings when he spots a familiar face leaving the practice room for dinner break. really, this one hour is his best chance of getting some practice in tonight, but he feels like it’s been a while since he last had the chance to talk to meng. he’ll always have a soft spot in his heart for people who joined the company at the same time as he did—they’re comrades-in-arms, or something like that. meng, hyunseok remembers, had some specific challenges to deal with, and he’s always felt the need to watch over her, just in case she needs help. though more than that, he’s just happy to see her doing well.
“meng!” he calls out, waving brightly before falling into step with her. “are you going to grab some dinner? mind i join you?” for all the emphasis on productivity, he’d gladly reject it to spend time with a friend. “i was just hanging around and—you know, i haven’t seen you in a while! we should catch up.”