Sitting in my car, which I recently just finished parking at my house where it belonged, I pulled out my phone and dialed a number. I honestly didn't expect him to pick up on such a beautiful Sunday afternoon, and the line ringing once, twice, then three times confirmed my assumption. 

I sighed as the dial tone rang a fourth time, the vibrato beep drawn out and only putting off my realization that he wouldn't answer. He was either asleep, or, on a rare occasion, was actually out doing something important.

"What?" An annoyed voice came through the phone, picking up at the last ring and startling me.

"...Y-You... actually picked up?" I questioned, putting the call on speakerphone so I could better hear over the chatter in his background. "Are you out in public?"

"I almost didn't," The male voice spat. "And not that it's any of your business, but yes. I'm out."

My jaw nearly dropped in surprise, and a smirk twisted my lips. "Lee Minho is out socializing??" I scoffed, deciding to tease him about his introverted tendencies. "Who are you with?" I leaned back in the drivers' seat, getting comfortable and perking my ears in anticipation for the shocking answer I was waiting for.

"Again, not your business," Minho droned, but I knew he was about to tell me. The hint of excitement in his voice was too prominent to miss. "But I'm with Jisung."

My brows furrowed, and I sat up straight, as if that would help me to process the information better. "...The idol, Han Jisung? Who was at the station for the interview the other day?" I tried to clarify.

I heard the sound of a chair scraping away from a table, and another, slightly higher male voice in the background of the call. "Yes. What —"

"Are you at a restaurant?" I smiled, listening closely to the sounds accompanying Minho's voice from the other side of the line. "Did you take him out to lunch?" I chuckled. "Aww, are you guys besties now —"

"What do you want?" Minho droned, completely and shamelessly dodging my question. It amazed me how effortlessly he could lead a conversation, invited to or not.

"I need to talk to you," I said. "Now," I added, the word coming out with more urgency than I intended.

He paused, and I could almost see him squinting his eyes and scrunching his brows in confusion on the other side of the line. He probably thought he got in trouble for something. "Why? Why, why, why?"

I shook my head, sitting back in the seat again, letting my head bump against the headrest as I crossed my arms. If Minho wasn't so sneaky so often, he wouldn't have to be so paranoid about getting caught. But I decided to be nice today and relieve him of the weighing suspicion that I had found out some dark secret of his. If he had some dark secrets, I needed to find out, though.

"Not a lot, it's just something I've been wondering. When are you getting home?"

"I'm on my way back right now, calm down." Now that he was sure that he wasn't in trouble, he had gone back to his normal, endearingly hostile self. I chuckled.

"Okay, I'm coming over," I told him.

"Yeah, come on over, thanks for asking first." I heard his keys jingling in his hand as he entered his car and started the ignition, the rumbling of which almost drowned out the sarcastic tone of his voice.

I rolled my eyes with a smile. "You're very welcome."

"I'm hanging up now," Minho alerted me, and the distant click of his seatbelt reached my ears. I opened my mouth to say something, but I was cut off by the beeping of the dial tone. 

I sat in shock for a moment as the monotony of beeps filled the silence of my car.

That had to be a new record for how fast Minho could hang up on me.

Smiling, I started my own engine up, pulling my car out of the driveway that it had been stationed in for only a few short-lived minutes, and began the drive to Minho's apartment.

I knocked on door 325 in the luxurious apartment complex, which, due to how many times and how often I visited, I basically knew inside out. My knocks echoed through the hallway, and I stood at the very end of it in front of a door which, to my happiness, had yet to open. 

Feeling especially risky on the way here, I had bet myself that I could beat Minho back to his apartment, without knowing how far away the restaurant he was coming from was.

If I won the bet with myself and beat him to his own home, it would be a sign to not return the retro TV that I impulsively bought while going shopping with Mya last week. And I needed to win; I would need that TV, in case I found a VCR that I needed to play or something. Until then, I would keep it stashed away in my storage room... with everything else that I would definitely need someday. 

I raised my fist again to knock on the hard, murky-gray painted surface, but the door swung open before my knuckles could make contact. Minho, already dressed in an all-black lounge outfit, leaned against the doorframe and watched me through the crack in the door, now half open. 

Groaning, I let my head drop as soon as I saw him. How long had it been since he had gotten back? Was he really home long enough to get changed?? 

"How far away was that restaurant you went to??" I whined, mentally gripping onto the TV, tightening my grasp around its rounded square frame.

Minho shrugged. "30 minutes?"

My eyes widened, and I looked him over as if his existence in front of me was just an illusion. "How did you get here so quickly, then??"

He shrugged again, eyeing me suspiciously. "Every traffic light I went through seemed to turn green as soon as I got there. It was like the universe wanted me to get back quickly," He added, watching my expression closely.

"Damn it... Fine. I guess I didn't really need it..." As my mental arms were pried from my beloved TV, I shook a fist at the sky in my head. 

Minho was still watching me in confusion, but apparently brushed it off. "So what did you want again?"

Oh, yeah, I had come here for something more important than a bet to determine the fate of my impulsive buy.

"...Aren't you going to invite me in?" I arched a brow, nodding into his apartment.

"No, probably not," He didn't hesitate to answer with monotone. When I rolled my eyes and pushed my way past him, he sighed and shut his door behind us. "...because you'll just invite yourself in, anyways."

I took a seat on the arm of his iconic blood red couch, centered in the middle of the living room that usually matched his nonchalant aura with minimal tones. Cocking my head as I watched Minho close the door, I noticed something.

Did he never actually lock his door when I was inside? Was that a thing he always did...?

That was kind of a security hazard. But this was a safe neighborhood, and I also saw it as something else. Something at the back of my mind was comforted that Minho cared about how I felt alone with him, and he decided not to lock the only exit.

I smiled. Under his hard exterior, sometimes his softer side showed through, like when I ate with him, and he would cut up everything for me before placing it onto my plate. Or he would act like he just felt like buying me an energy drink, when it was obvious that he heard me complain that I was tired at the station.

He had a sweet and caring side that I was honored to witness and sometimes even be the one to bring out of him.

Minho approached the couch, plopping down across from me and crossing his legs under him on the crimson cushion. "So what do you want?"

I clapped my hands to emphasize. "Tea."

Minho raised an eyebrow. "I thought you liked coffee more." Another sign that he actually listened more than he let on to my pointless rants about my preferences.

I shook my head and clarified.

"You. Hyunjin. Felix. Highschool. Spill."