Jaemin's hair was matted against his forehead as he panted, staring at his reflection intensely. It wasn't until the dance team's leader, Lana, clapped her hands and announced that they were done for the day, did Jaemin plop down onto the cold floors and close his eyes in relief.

   They had been practicing for three whole hours, of course he'd be tired. He doesn't blame their dance leader for making them train so intensely, though.

   They have four big performances coming up this month, and Lana has been stressing ever since that was announced. She is in charge of coming up with their choreographies (not completely on her own, of course) and teaching it to them, so she truly does have a lot of weight on her shoulders. Jaemin has trust in her. She's never failed to teach them and always assured them that they'll have an amazing performance.

   And true to her word, they always do perform well.

   Jaemin smiles at the thought before opening his eyes and was greeted with another one of his team members, Genevieve, who giggled and ran her hands through his sweaty hair, sweeping it off of his forehead and Jaemin nearly purred in content.

   Despite the rest of the school making fun of him for being on the dance team, the girls on the team were always fond of him and made sure to let him know that he was needed.

   Jaemin really appreciated it. He needed the reassurance sometimes.

   The said boy sits up and pulls Genevieve into a quick hug. Before they part, she whispers, "You did really good today." For a response, Jaemin rubs her back soothingly and then proceeds to stand up. He pats off the imaginary dust off his sweatpants and walks over to his phone that's resting near his sports bag and picks it up. It's filled with Twitter and Instagram notifications, most of them just saying that a certain celebrity posted but Jaemin pays no mind to those. Instead, he clicks onto his messages and smiles when he sees the one he was looking for.

   Jaemin is quick to throw his bag over his shoulder and rush outside where his best friend, Jeno Lee, is waiting outside in his car. The boy runs over to the vehicle and hops into the passenger seat and throws the rest of his belongings into the backseat.

   "Hey," he greets.

   Jeno glances at him before starting up the engine and backing out of the parking space. "How was practice?"

   The other groans dramatically. "Exhausting. I could really use some coffee."

   Jaemin winks, and Jeno rolls his eyes.

   They ended up going to Starbucks — typical, I know. They're currently sitting in one of the booths by a window, and Jeno is ranting about the new player on his soccer team and "how much of a complete asshole" he is.

   Jaemin was in the middle of zoning out and trying to act like he was listening to his best friend before he saw a flash of blonde hair, and gasped.

   "What?" Jeno suddenly asks. "Were you even listening to me?" He sounds exasperated.

   Ignoring him, Jaemin stares at the figure with oddly familiar blonde hair. He can only see his back, but he swears those sweatpants that the stranger is wearing oddly look like his own. He waits until the boy orders and turns around, and gasps once more once he sees the face.

   "Jisung Park!" Jaemin yells, his wide smile appearing.

   "I'm so lost," Jeno mumbles, mostly to himself, the same time that Jisung whips his head around in surprise. The poor boy looked so shaken, his eyes wide and lips trembling. Jeno frowned. "Dumbass. You scared the boy."

   His comments go ignored, though because soon Jaemin is frantically making gestures for Jisung to walk over to their table, and the younger boy looks pretty much everywhere in the store as if saying, "Me?" Once he realizes that Jaemin most likely isn't going to stop acting like a complete maniac, he makes his way over to the table and hesitantly sits down.

   "Hi?"

   Jaemin offers his mega-watt smile that quickly turns into a smirk. "Fancy seeing you here," He glances down at Jisung's bottoms. "Are those my sweats?"

   Jeno furrows his eyebrows in disbelief. "Am I missing something here?"

   You see, despite Jaemin having called Jeno the other night when he first met Jisung, he never actually got around to telling him what happened. At first, it was because Jaemin got distracted by all the people walking their dogs and just had to pet them. Then, Jeno started talking about some new video game he got and by the time he finished with his rant (Jeno rants quite frequently), the younger was already at his siblings school and had to hang up.

   So to say that Jeno's lost is an understatement.

   Jisung brings a hand to the back of his neck, and says, "Uh, yeah. I meant to give them back."

   "It's okay if you want to keep them! I have, like, two other pairs in the same colors for some reason and—"

   It's Jeno who interrupts his best friend by abruptly standing up from the table. He couldn't take being left in the dark for any longer. "Well," He stretches his arms far out. "It was nice meeting you, kid. But Jaemin and I have places to be."

   Before Jaemin has any time to protest, Jeno grips him tightly by the shoulder and leads him out of the establishment. They walk in silence for a while, mainly because the younger is pouting and the other doesn't really know how to begin a conversation.

   Sighing, Jeno starts. "What was all of that about?"

   At the comment, Jaemin's body goes rigid. He furrows his eyebrows before suddenly wrapping his arms around his best friends waist and rests his head on his chest, whilst they're walking and Jeno has to fight the urge to flinch away.

   Jaemin has always been clingy. To his friends, to Jeno, to everyone, really.

   It's something you have to get used too. The touches don't mean anything . . .

   "I was going to tell you yesterday," Jaemin's voice is soft. "I met him in the alleyway. He was crying and dirty and, well, I don't know. I just felt the need to help him." The boy admits.

   Jeno quirks a brow. "He was in the alleyway? Why?"

   The younger shrugs, and Jeno can feel the movement against his side. "There was a dead cat too."

   All too suddenly, the raven-haired boy came to a halt. "What?" He asked, his eyes widening and mouth dropping open. "Like," Jeno tried to fathom what that must've meant, but his mouth felt dry. "Was it hit or something? Why's that significant?"

   Answering nonchalantly, Jaemin replied, "It's stomach was cut open."

   Is this not a big deal? Is this an everyday occurance for Jaemin? Jeno wondered, but kept his mouth shut.

   They walked home in silence.

   Jaemin wakes up to the smell of delicious pancakes, and smiles happily.

   Mom must be home, he thinks.

   He sits up and opens his window, glancing out at their green backyard where his little brother is playing on the tiny playset they've had ever since Jaemin was young. It was an endearing sight to see; the innocence of his brother, the bright and pure smile on his face as he slid down the slide.

   Being youthful is something Jaemin has always admired. Even if you are fifty years old, if you can remain young and beautiful at heart, then that means more than anything.

   Jaemin likes to think that he's young at heart, too.

   Pulling himself out of his thoughts, the boy runs a hand through his messy and bed-ridden hair before standing up and walking out into the kitchen, where the heavenly smell is coming from. There, his mother's thin back is facing him, but Jaemin can see that there's an apron tied around her waist and is cooking eggs, whilst humming softly to whatever song is playing.

   Whenever Jaemin's mother is home, the house seems so much more livelier. It doesn't seem as cold, and dark. In fact, it feels quite the opposite when she's there. It seems to be warmer, and safer. These thoughts make Jaemin's feet move on auto-pilot and soon he's right by her side, and by now he can basically feel the happiness radiating off her.

   Noticing her eldest son's prescense, she turns to him and gives him the same smile that Jaemin has; it's almost scary how similar they are in looks. She wraps her arms around him and lets him crouch down to rest his head on her shoulder, and she ruffled his hair before pulling away only to grab a store-bought muffin and hands it to him.

   "Eat this until I finish cooking." She says.

   Jaemin nods and takes a bite out of the muffin before humming in content. He then makes his way to the living room and turns on the television, but it's so early that only cartoons are on so the boy settles for the Pink Panther.

   He's silently munching when thoughts about yesterday come to mind.

   The boy feels kind of bad. He'd been very vague with his best friend, and the two have always been so brutally honest with each other up until now. So much information was left out and he knows he should've told Jeno the truth, but something in him wanted to keep Jisung a secret; the boy was sort of a mystery. Jaemin didn't want anyone to know about the younger until he figured him out.

   It's so selfish, but it's what he feels.

   Soon, his mother is calling everyone to the table for breakfast, and without thinking, Jaemin makes his way over and takes his usual seat. On the table is bacon, eggs, hashbrowns, and biscuits and gravy. Quite a lot of food for a group of four, seeing as their father — who usually eats the most during meals — isn't here. Yet that doesn't stop Jaemin from helping himself.

   Right as Jaemin is about to take his first bite, the doorbell rings.

   The boy looks towards his mother who gestures to him to open the door himself seeing as she's a bit busy trying to get his siblings to not eat so messily, and rolls his eyes discreetly before standing up and walking to the entry way. He opens the door, not even bothering to look through the peep hole and—

   "Jisung?"