Alexithymia - Minchan

The first thing Chan said to me that night was, "Not gonna dance?"

It was that night. The wedding night. The vows had been exchanged, the formalities completed, and now came the dancing. Han swayed effortlessly with Changbin, their movements fluid, natural—exactly as I had choreographed. I had trained them for weeks, pouring my energy into every step, every twirl, ensuring that their first dance as a married couple would be perfect. And it was.

Pathetic.

Not them. Me. My situation. Sitting alone at the bar, watching the person I had loved with every fiber of my being slip further away, cementing his forever with someone else. I wanted to be happy for Han, I truly did. But I wasn't. And the worst part? I couldn't even cry about it anymore. Maybe I had exhausted all my tears. Maybe I was just empty now. I chuckled into my glass, swirling the deep red liquid before taking another sip. The wedding venue was bathed in warm lights, love radiating off every couple that moved to the music. The air smelled of roses and expensive champagne.

I wanted that. A normal life. A happy life. But I wasn't lucky enough for that, was I?

Then came Chan.

I had noticed him throughout the wedding preparations. He had been abroad for a long time, only recently returning to Korea. A songwriter, a singer—his reputation preceded him. I admired people who could create, who could mold emotions into lyrics and melodies. That was how I had fallen for Han, after all. His songs had touched me in a way nothing else ever had. Each line had been a thread tying me to him.

Chan had a presence. Charismatic, confident, always smiling. But I saw through it. His eyes never matched his expression. His laughter was hollow. I could tell from the beginning—he wasn't here for romance. He was here for the thrill, the escape, the transient intimacy of a one-night stand. That's why I avoided him as much as I could.

"Not gonna dance?"

His voice pulled me back. I turned my head slightly, barely looking at him before shifting my gaze back to the dance floor. "I prefer the center stage," I murmured, my voice tinged with tipsiness.

Chan chuckled. "In my eyes, you'll always be dancing at the center stage."

I scoffed. "That was lame."

He laughed. "Worth a try."

I glanced at him. "Still couldn't find anyone to hook up with?"

"Was I that obvious?" Chan smirked, swirling his drink lazily.

I studied him for a moment before looking back at Han. "Well, if I just wanted a hookup, that would've been done by now. But I have my eyes on the prettiest one in this room. And that guy has his eyes on one of the grooms."

My breath hitched slightly. I finally turned to meet Chan's gaze. His eyes were searching, understanding, as if he already knew what I was feeling.

"Was I that obvious?" My voice was barely above a whisper.

"Want me to take you away from here?" he asked.

I looked at him. There it was—the moment. The one where you know you're about to make a bad decision, but you do it anyway because bad decisions are the only ones that make sense in the moment.

I nodded.

Chan took my hand, his grip firm, and together, we walked out of the room.