the way we left it
written by one of hazelira's team members with the help of hazelira btw
It was in the silence that Heeseung found the most comfort—not the loud screams of the crowd, not the blinding lights of the stage, but the silence between them—the distance they had learned to maintain.
On the surface, everything was perfect. Their friendship was the envy of their fans, the kind of bond everyone looked up to and admired. They were brothers and companions, the kind of friendship that didn’t need words to be understood. But what did the world know about them beyond the stage? What did the fans know about the unsaid moments that weren’t meant to be shared?
Heeseung leaned against the back wall of the practice room, his gaze flickering across the floor as he heard Sunoo’s voice rise in the distance, laughing with the others, his tone light and carefree. There was a time when Heeseung would have joined him in that laughter when he would have leaned in, whispered something silly, or just listened. But now, Sunoo's voice, the vibrancy of his laughter, left a knot in Heeseung’s chest. Everyone naturally loved Sunoo and how people always surrounded him—sometimes, it made Heeseung feel like he was fading into the background, like a shadow just out of reach.
It wasn’t supposed to feel like this. Heeseung had promised himself that he wouldn’t let it happen. He wouldn’t let their friendship be overshadowed by the pressures of the industry, the rumours, and the expectations placed on them like weighty chains. But it did.
From the moment they’d stepped into I-LAND, something was magnetic between them. Fans had latched onto it—those shared looks, those quiet moments when only they understood each other. Heeseung remembered the early days of the show. Sunoo had always been there, a steady presence, a hand reaching out to him when everything felt too heavy. They had each other’s backs, always. But the farther they went, the more everything started to change.
Heeseung’s heart sank as he recalled how Sunoo had given him a small but genuine smile just a few months ago after a particularly gruelling rehearsal. It wasn’t the flashy smile he gave to the cameras or the fans, but something raw, something real. Sunoo had said, "I’m glad you’re here."
It meant everything to Heeseung, but it also terrified him. Because ever since that moment, the space between them had only grown. And it wasn’t the kind of space that could be filled with words, gestures, or even those quiet moments where only they existed. No, it was the kind of space that cut through the silence between them, like an invisible wall neither wanted to acknowledge.
“Hyung, are you okay?” Sunoo’s voice cut through Heeseung’s thoughts, his presence a familiar warmth beside him.
Heeseung blinked, startled by the sudden closeness. Sunoo had always had this way of slipping into his personal space without Heeseung even noticing. But today, it felt different—strained, like something was shifting in the air between them.
“Yeah, just... thinking,” Heeseung replied, his voice low, distant.
Sunoo tilted his head slightly, studying him. There was a flicker of concern in his eyes, but he quickly masked it with a smile. “You’ve been quiet lately,” Sunoo said softly. “You know I’m here if you want to talk.”
Heeseung didn’t reply right away. Instead, he looked down at the floor, trying to find the words. There was so much he wanted to say, so much he needed to release. But every time he tried to, it got tangled in the fear of ruining everything: their friendship, their bond—the one thing that had kept him grounded through all this madness. But lately, it felt like they were drifting.
“I don’t know,” Heeseung whispered. “It’s like... everything is changing. And I don’t know if I’m ready for it.”
Sunoo was silent for a long moment, and Heeseung could feel the weight of his gaze. Finally, Sunoo spoke, his voice quieter than usual. “It’s okay to feel that way, you know. We’re... we’re still figuring it out.”
Heeseung let out a breath, not realizing he had been holding it in. “But it’s not just that. It’s the way things feel... forced now. We have to act a certain way for the cameras, fans, and everyone else. But when we’re not performing, when the lights are off... we’re just... two people who can’t even be themselves.”
Sunoo’s expression softened. “We’ve always been like this, haven’t we? Always in the background, always supporting each other quietly. But... maybe it’s time we stop pretending we’re fine with it. I don’t know what’s going on either, Heeseung. But I do know this... you’re still my number one."
Heeseung’s heart clenched at the words. You’re still my number one. It wasn’t nearly enough, but it was everything he needed to hear.
But still, there was a part of him that knew this was more than just a quiet moment between two friends. There was something unspoken, something they both understood but couldn’t voice. The company, the fans, the expectations had become too much for them to bear.
The room was still, save for their quiet breaths. Sunoo’s gaze lingered on Heeseung, and neither spoke for a long moment. Their silence was heavy, but it was the kind of silence between two people who understood each other completely without needing to explain anything.
Suddenly, Heeseung stood, moving closer to Sunoo. He didn’t know what drove him to act on instinct—maybe it was the hurt that had built up inside him or the aching need for something real. Without a word, he pulled Sunoo into a tight hug.
Sunoo initially froze, surprised, but then he relaxed into the embrace. They held each other for a long, quiet moment, and they shared warmth between them, saying everything that words couldn’t.
Heeseung buried his face into Sunoo’s shoulder, his voice barely audible as he whispered, “I don’t want to lose what we have. I can’t bear the thought of it.”
Sunoo’s arms tightened under his, his voice soft but steady. “You won’t. You’re stuck with me, Heeseung. Always.”
But even in the comfort of that embrace, Heeseung couldn’t shake the thought that maybe, just maybe, the world outside would continue to pull them in opposite directions. The lines, the cameras, and the expectations would always create walls between them, walls they couldn’t tear down no matter how hard they tried.
Still, for that one fleeting moment, Heeseung let himself believe that maybe their friendship could survive the chaos. That despite everything, they would always find their way back to each other.
Because, in the end, that was all that mattered.
The fans may never know what happened between them, and the world may never understand the complexities of their bond. But for Heeseung and Sunoo, there was a quiet understanding in the space between them—a promise that no matter the distance or chaos around them, they would always find each other again.
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