FLASHBACK – High School (10 years ago)
Back then, Hamin didn't look like he did now.
He was softer. Sweeter.
The kind of boy who wore oversized sweaters, sat in the back of the class sketching things in the corner of his notebook. Always quiet, always watching. His hair had been shorter then, brushed over his forehead, constantly messy as if the wind lived in it.
Taeha didn't talk to him much — not at first.
Taeha was a top student, class president, confident, respected. People listened when he spoke. But Hamin was invisible in comparison.
And there was one afternoon that changed everything.
Taeha had gone back there to avoid the noise of his friends. He wasn't in the mood for arcade games or flirting or jokes about girls' skirts.
And there was Hamin.
Sitting against the brick wall, headphones in, sketching with deep focus.
He didn't even look up when Taeha walked over.
"What are you drawing?"
Hamin looked startled. He quickly pulled the sketchbook to his chest. "Nothing."
Taeha tilted his head. "Is it me?"
Hamin turned red instantly. "N-No."
Taeha smirked, leaning slightly closer. "That's a guilty voice."
"…It's just practice."
They sat in silence for a while. It wasn't awkward. The wind rustled the bushes. A crow called somewhere.
Then Hamin quietly said, "I think you're… nice to draw."
Taeha blinked.
It was the first compliment he remembered feeling nervous after hearing.
_______
It happened a year later.
Raining. After school.
Taeha was standing under the school corridor, waiting for the rain to stop. Hamin came running up, wet from the shoulders down, holding an umbrella he never opened.
"Can I say something?" Hamin asked, eyes wide and anxious.
Taeha gave a small nod.
"I… I like you."
Just like that.
No buildup. No hesitation.
"I've liked you since first year. I didn't mean to. I know you're not… like me. But I just wanted to say it. Once."
Taeha froze.
His mind didn't know what to do.
His friends were nearby. The corridor was crowded. Someone might have heard.
So he did what he thought he had to do.
He laughed. He pretended.
Harsh. Cold. Loud enough for others to hear.
"You like me? — Digusting" Taeha scoffed. "What are you, crazy? Get lost."
He didn't look at Hamin's face.
He couldn't.
But he heard the silence that followed.
And then the footsteps — soft, hurried, disappearing into the rain.
That night, Taeha couldn't sleep.
And the next day, Hamin changed seats.
He never tried spoke to Taeha again.
Back to Present – Delirium Balcony
Taeha's hands trembled slightly on the railing.
He remembered it all too well.
The sketchbook.
The rain.
The way Hamin looked at him like he meant it — like his feelings were real, not just a childish crush.
And Taeha crushed it like it was nothing.
Back then, he had thought:
"If I don't say something cruel, I'll hesitate."
"If I hesitate, I might fall."
But now?
He was already falling.
And this time, Hamin was the one pretending not to see.