Do-hyun almost didn't open the message right away.
He was halfway through grading a stack of practice problems for a tutoring gig he picked up on weekends, laptop balanced on his knees, half a cup of cold coffee sitting forgotten on the nightstand, when his phone buzzed with the notification. He glanced at it out of habit more than urgency—an unfamiliar name, 'Jae-min', the boy he'd sat across from at dinner not two weeks ago.
Jae-min; You may want to see this.
An audio file attached beneath it.
Do-hyun frowned, setting the laptop aside, and pressed play with no particular expectation beyond curiosity.
Jihan's voice filled the small room, slower than usual, thick with alcohol in a way Do-hyun hadn't heard from him in years—not since the last time they'd ever gotten drunk together, back when things were still simple, back before either of them understood what his father was capable of.
I don't know if it's love. I think about how badly I ended things. That's what sits with me.
