only human // skz

12 . the mysterious art of 'hanging out'

MAY 16

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   Minho was nervous, nervous, nervous. Anxious even. He'd readily agreed when Jisung asked if he wanted to "hang out" today; without much trouble he'd let Jisung know that he'd be off work just after noon. But as he thought about it, this thing he'd agreed to, while scrubbing tables once he got in this morning, well, doubts arose. Despite the fact that they'd apparently "hung out" before, this wasn't going to be like anything they'd done before.

    They'd just made plans to meet up and... presumably, do something.  The only occasion that in some way compared to this was the other day, when Minho had come over to Jisung's house and met his mother— but that was different, too, because there was a clear objective that time, not to mention, after he'd met Jisung's mother, that evening ended up feeling very similar to nights they'd spent at college, where Minho came to Jisung to find comfort and clear his congested mind.

   But this? Supposedly, Jisung had asked him out to do something fun. ...To do normal friend things, not just to talk through Minho's issues, or to give him a dose of medicine for his ailment of touch starvation. At first, Minho had thought it sounded almost amazing. His younger self would've absolutely jumped at the chance without a single worry— there would have been no room for that when he would've been completely overcome with joy. But his new self was... afraid.

   His first worry had been that Jisung might've felt obligated to spend time with him individually as a result of the question that Minho had asked on their last day at college. He seemed quite happy about suggesting it though, and knowing full well that Jisung wasn't one to pretend or fake his feelings, Minho mostly discredited that worry. Instead, he went on to worry that, being genuine about wanting to hang out with Minho, Jisung would immediately be disappointed when he realized what it was like to do that.

   At college, during most 'hang out' times, Minho had had the luxury of being able to fade into the background, because everyone else was there to provide the entertainment. He'd never need to say a word if he didn't want to, when anyone else was around. (And most of the time, he didn't want to.)

   Alone, though? With no one to hide behind? No one to fill the awkward pauses left by an absence of his weak, unsteady voice? What on earth was he going to do? Having never really 'hung out' with Minho in this context before, one-on-one, Jisung must have been expecting him to be fun to go out and do things with.

    Minho, of course, wouldn't know for sure as he'd never tried it before— not with this new mindset that was slowly taking shape, at least— but he was about 90% sure that that would not be the case. He would be quiet. Awkward. Boring.

   He would have no clue what to do, where to go, or what to say if Jisung asked: "What should we do?" And it's not like he was one of those people with the covetable mystic power of making doing absolutely nothing still enjoyable and fun. The only saving grace he could think of was that Jisung probably already had a plan, or at least an idea of what to do while they 'hung out', because he had to have been a thousand times more experienced at it.

   During the last few minutes of his shift it finally dawned on him that he should probably try racking his brain to come up with a few ideas, just in case, now, before the pressure was on (although, the pressure was definitely on already). 

   He thought for a moment that maybe they could go to a park. But what on earth would they do at a park? Walk around? Silently? Maybe that was a bad idea. 

   Maybe they could go somewhere to eat; after all he hadn't eaten yet— oh yeah, there was a reason for that: anxiety had eaten away at his appetite all morning. Okay, not that.