Scene: Early Evening — The Rooftop

The sun is starting to set, casting the city in a wash of amber and violet. The rooftop is quiet, cooler than it was in the afternoon. Someone left a jacket over the railing. There's a chair, half-broken, and an ashtray someone used once and then never touched again.

Nut leans against the railing. His eyes follow the skyline, unfocused.

William sits on the ledge nearby, drink in hand - not alcohol, just iced tea from the convenience store. He glances sideways at Nut every now and then but doesn't speak. He knows Nut will get there when he's ready.

The silence between them isn't uncomfortable. It just is.

After a long stretch of stillness, Nut finally exhales through his nose. "Do you think..." he starts, then stops. He rubs the back of his neck. "Do you think we mess things up more because we don't know what we feel? Or because we do — and we don't know what to do with it?"

William doesn't respond right away. He lifts the bottle to his lips. "That's a heavy question."

"Yeah," says Nut. "I didn't mean to say it out loud."

"But you did."

Nut huffs a laugh. It's not joyful.

Another silence. Then Nut speaks again, more carefully this time, like walking barefoot on glass.

"You ever feel like someone's heart is sitting right in your hands, and you're scared you'll drop it because you're not even sure if you should be holding it?"

William watches him for a moment. "Is this about Hong?"

Nut stiffens slightly — but he doesn't deny it.

"I don't know what it's about," Nut murmurs. "I just... I feel like I'm in the middle of something I didn't mean to start."

William nods slowly. "Hong's hard to read sometimes. He makes people feel special. Like they're the only one in the room."

There's something in his tone — soft, distant. Like memory.

Nut glances at him. "You too?"

William smiles faintly. "Once. Maybe. A long time ago. We were close. He was always looking out for me back then. But then I met Est... and I realized I wanted something steadier. Something that didn't feel like I might lose it every time it got quiet."

Nut looks down. He bites the inside of his cheek. "I think I kissed him."

William turns his head slowly. "You think?"

Nut shrugs. "It's a blur. He kissed me too. Maybe. But it was late. He wasn't sober. And then this morning—he didn't say anything."

"Do you want him to?"

Nut opens his mouth. Closes it. Looks away. "I don't know. I think... I care about him. A lot. I think I have for a while. But I'm scared. I'm just the next person he turns to when he's lonely. You know?"

William's voice is quiet. "And you don't want to be another in-between."

Nut swallows. "I want to be someone's first choice."

William let that sit between them. Then he reaches out and rests a hand on Nut's shoulder — not heavy, just grounding.

"You're a good person, Nut. Hong's not careless, even if he looks like it sometimes. If something happened between you two, it meant something. Maybe he's just scared too."

Nut doesn't say anything. His fingers curl around the edge of the railing.

"He'll come back around," William says. "But whether you wait... or move on... that's something only you can decide."

Nut nods slowly.

The wind picks up a little. The city lights begin to flicker on, one by one.

And for a moment, neither of them speaks. They just stand there — two people who've known heartbreak in different ways, holding space for each other on a rooftop above the noise.

Scene: Afternoon — Practice Room

The studio is bright and too clean, mirrors stretching across the walls like a stage for things unspoken. Someone left the speakers humming with low static. Their choreographer is running late, so the boys warm up in pieces — stretching, drinking water, fiddling with their phones.

The air is too quiet.

Hong walks in last.

He’s wearing a hoodie pulled over his head, hair messy like he slept through the morning, and headphones around his neck. His face is unreadable. Eyes cast down, movements slow. He avoids Nut’s gaze, though he can feel it burning.

Nut, already by the mirror with his bottle of water, watches Hong like he’s trying not to. Like it’s not the only thing he’s been thinking about for days.

William checks the time, trying to be casual. “We’ll just go over the chorus again. Lego, you remember the new transition?”

Lego shrugs. “Sure. It’s not rocket science.”

Tui yawns. “Can we do this fast? I’ve got a dentist appointment.”

No one laughs.

The music starts. They move.

But something’s off.

Hong misses a beat. Nut turns the wrong way. Their timing, usually like breath and rhythm, is clumsy, jagged.

They try again.

And again.

Until —

Nut’s voice cuts through the room.

“Can you focus, Hong?”

It’s sharp. Too loud. Too fast.

The music cuts.

Hong blinks at him. “I am.”

“You’re not,” Nut says, stepping forward. “You’re barely even here.”

William lifts a hand, trying to cool the tension. “Guys — ”

“I said I’m fine,” Hong mutters.

But his voice is too thin. His hands are shaking slightly.

Nut laughs, bitter and low. “Yeah? You were real fine when you kissed me in the bathroom and then disappeared like nothing happened.”

The silence crashes down.

Tui’s eyes widen. Lego’s head snaps up. William’s expression tightens.

Hong doesn’t move.

Nut steps closer, his voice cracking now. “Say something. Anything. Because I’m losing my mind here.”

Hong’s mouth opens. Then closes. His hands curl into fists in the pocket of his hoodie.

“I don’t know what you want me to say.”

“That it meant nothing?” Nut shoots back. “That I was just something to help you forget her? Or that you felt something, anything — just for one damn second?”

William exhales. “Nut — ”

“No, he started it,” Nut says, eyes never leaving Hong. “He kissed me. He held my hand in front of everyone. He made me feel like I wasn’t crazy.”

Hong flinches. Then finally looks up, eyes glassy and red.

“I’m sorry.”

His voice is hoarse. Small.

Nut steps back like he’s been slapped.

“I’m sorry,” Hong says again. “But I’m scared. I don’t know how to do this. I don’t know how to love someone the right way. I keep messing it up. And you don’t deserve that.”

Nut’s breathing hard. His fists are clenched at his sides.

“I didn’t ask you to be perfect,” he says quietly. “I just wanted you to be honest.”

Another beat.

And then Hong says the one thing he’s been holding back.

“I like you, Nut. I think I’ve liked you for a long time. But I’m still trying to stop being the person who always breaks things.”

Nut swallows.

Across the room, no one is breathing.

Lego finally says, “Okay. Maybe… we should take five.”

William nods, his jaw tight. “Yeah. Let’s cool off.”

Tui is already backing out of the room with his phone.

Nut doesn’t move. Hong turns away, walks to the corner, presses his forehead against the mirror like he’s trying to disappear into it.

The music doesn’t play again.

Not for a while.

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