Decalcomania

September 2025

A light, icy breeze brushed against Hyun-woo’s face, carrying the crispness of the season with it.

He had nothing to complain about.

Except for the group chat on his phone, which he used to have to keep muted and which now sat there without jokes, arguments, or even those stupid notifications no one ever read properly.

Something inside him kept asking:

What are you doing just standing there?

He could have claimed, with every right, that it was simply his leader instincts at work, but he would only have been lying to himself.

The feeling had a name.

Longing.

He missed the sense of belonging.

The brotherhood.

He even missed annoying them with his ridiculous jokes and hearing five people tell him he was getting old.

Hyun-woo took the last sip from the bottle of soju in his hand and shook his head at the strength of the alcohol.

Even so, he was still dizzy.

“Drunk, alone, in my own house.” He let out a quiet huff of laughter. “That’s sad.”

For a moment, he considered putting on Wouldn’t It Be, hoping it might give his melancholy at least a little comedic relief.

He looked down at his clothes, and suddenly Min-kyu’s voice echoed in his head, complaining about the old hoodie and the Friends T-shirt as if he were standing right beside him.

Then he looked at the empty house.

He could hear other things too.

Laughter.

Arguments.

Someone shouting from another room.

Si-yul singing for no reason.

Ji-ho asking everyone to be quiet and being ignored.

Suddenly, all those voices and thoughts awakened a kind of courage that had been dormant for far too long.

Hyun-woo picked up his phone and opened the damn group chat.

For a few seconds, he stared at the string of old messages.

Then he typed the one thing he was certain none of them would ignore.

"Tomorrow. Eagles vs. Cowboys. Pizza at my place."

"Anyone who’s late has to double their bet."

It didn’t even take five minutes.

His phone started vibrating in his hand.

One message.

Then another.

And another.

The group chat that had spent far too long practically dead was beginning to come alive again.

Hyun-woo looked up at the city lights and smiled faintly.

Even the wind seemed to pause and watch that small dose of hope.

The doorbell rang, and Hyun-woo hurried to answer it.

Min-kyu and Si-yul were standing on the other side.

“Man, it’s been forever!”

Si-yul walked in smiling and immediately pulled Hyun-woo into a hug.

His long blond hair fell over Hyun-woo’s shoulder. Hyun-woo hugged him back.

“The longer I look at you, the older I feel. My God.”

“Age is a state of mind.”

“No.” Min-kyu walked through the door right behind him. “In Hyun-woo’s case, age is age. And wearing the same hoodie with the same old Friends T-shirt all the time doesn’t help.”

Hyun-woo looked down.

The shirt was perfectly acceptable, even if he had worn it for a few days straight.

“It’s really good to see you too, Min-kyu.”

“Man, sending that message was the best thing you could’ve done. I was starting to lose my mind in that apartment.”

“But you made it on time. No need to double your bet.”

“A miracle. Write this down, because no one’s going to believe it later.”

Si-yul laughed.

Min-kyu ran a hand through his dark hair, streaked with deliberately uneven light highlights, and finally pulled Hyun-woo into a quick hug.

“It’s good to see you, hyung.”

The honorific hit Hyun-woo harder than it should have.

“It’s good to see you too.”

Ji-ho arrived shortly afterward carrying a bag of drinks and wearing the expression of a man already questioning some of his own choices.

“I brought bourbon.”

Hyun-woo stepped aside to let him in.

“I bought drinks.”

“I know what you call ‘buying drinks.’”

“What’s the problem?”

Ji-ho looked at the empty soju bottle forgotten on the counter.

“That.”

“It’s almost ten at night. Don’t start.”

Hyun-woo smiled.

He had even missed that.

Do-ha showed up a few minutes later wearing his signature white dress shirt and holding a bottle of makgeolli.

Hyun-woo looked from the bottle to him.

“Do you guys think I don’t have alcohol at home?”

“Oh, we’re sure you do,” Do-ha replied as he walked inside. “The problem is the quality.”

“Get out of my house.”

“Thanks for inviting me.”

He flashed his square smile.

“It’s still my house.”

“Not while we’re here.”

The doorbell rang one last time.

That alone was already unusually polite.

Normally, he would simply walk in, open the refrigerator, and throw himself onto the couch as if he paid part of the condo fees.

But when Hyun-woo opened the door, something shifted.

There were no favorite members.

There never had been.

But Jung I-geon was certainly the one he had missed the most.

“Hey, I-geon…”

Hyun-woo’s voice came out slightly strained.

“Oh, no. Don’t start. I’m not a stranger.”

I-geon stepped closer and, as if by instinct, the two went through the old handshake they had shared for years.

Simple, quick movements that meant absolutely nothing to anyone except them.

Hyun-woo smiled.

“I didn’t know you still remembered.”

“How could I forget?”

Hyun-woo couldn’t think of anything to say.

Instead, he discreetly studied his friend.

I-geon looked good.

Lighter, even.

But Hyun-woo knew him well enough to notice the restlessness hidden in the way he moved.

“So, how are you?”

I-geon held his gaze.

“I’m good.”

Hyun-woo kept looking at him.

“I really am. Relax. Now, please tell me you bought enough food.”

That was enough.

For now.

“Eight pizzas. Plus whatever junk Min-kyu brought.”

“One of those pizzas is mine, right?!”

“You’re late.”

I-geon stopped.

“How late?”

“Eleven minutes.”

“Double my bet and let me eat.”

“One hundred thousand won.”

“I’ll survive.”

When he stepped into the living room, I-geon hugged each of them.

Hyun-woo stayed near the door for a few seconds, simply watching.

No one needed to say they had missed one another.

It was written in the hugs that lasted a little too long and the teasing that started before the greetings were even finished.

In the absurd ease with which the group slipped back into sharing the same space, even after spending far too long living separate lives.

“The game’s about to start. Are you guys going to sit down already?” Ji-ho called from the living room.

“They’re still showing the lineup. You know it by heart, hyung,” I-geon said.

“I like watching.”

“It started.”

Min-kyu appeared holding a pizza box.

“They should make a documentary just about Ji-ho’s quirks.”

“No one would watch it.”

“I would,” Si-yul said.

“You don’t count.”

Hyun-woo pointed toward the enormous couch in the middle of the room.

“Make yourselves at home, but please be careful with that couch. It arrived from Switzerland yesterday.”

I-geon immediately looked at him.

“Your back again?”

“Yeah. Same crap as always.”

“The game started. Shut up,” Ji-ho announced.

And from that point on, any concern about the expensive Swiss couch ceased to matter.

The television took up half the living room wall, though by then no one needed a screen that large to understand that the Cowboys were getting far too close to scoring.

“No. No, no, no.”

Hyun-woo leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees.

“If you do this in my house, I’m turning the TV off.”

I-geon burst out laughing from the other couch.

“You’re going to turn it off with forty seconds left?”

“The TV is mine.”

“The broadcast contract probably disagrees,” Ji-ho commented without taking his eyes off the screen.

Hyun-woo slowly turned his head.

“Whose side are you on?”

Ji-ho pointed at the green shirt he was wearing.

“I’m literally dressed in Eagles colors.”

“Then show some suffering.”

“I am suffering… internally.”

Across the room, Min-kyu grabbed another slice of pizza.

“He’s acting like this because he knows he’s going to lose.”

“It’s not over yet,” Hyun-woo shot back.

“Exactly. That’s why I said you’re going to lose.”

Si-yul, sitting on the floor, lifted a cushion as if he were about to throw it.

“Min-kyu, I swear to God…”

“Swear after you lose.”

“God has nothing to do with this,” Do-ha said calmly, lifting his glass to his lips. “It’s not His fault you guys picked the wrong team.”

Hyun-woo widened his eyes.

“You stayed quiet for an hour just to say that?”

“I was waiting until it was worth it.”

I-geon rolled his eyes and reached for the last slice in the box.

Hyun-woo slapped his hand away first.

“No way.”

“You lost the right to control the pizza when you decided to root for the Eagles.”

“I bought the pizza.”

“And I crossed Seoul to get here.”

“No one invited you specifically.”

I-geon froze.

His offended expression could not have been more dramatic.

The other four looked at Hyun-woo, but the leader remained just as still as they were.

I-geon leaned back against the couch.

“Fine.”

“I-geon…”

“No, no. It’s fine.”

Hyun-woo narrowed his eyes.

He knew that tone.

“Take the damn pizza.”

“I don’t want it anymore.”

“Just take it.”

“I lost my appetite.”

“You ate eleven slices.”

“I had six.”

Do-ha glanced at the open boxes on the table.

“It was eight.”

I-geon stared at him, offended.

“You were counting?”

“Unfortunately, I have eyes.”

A burst of shouting from the television interrupted them.

Everyone looked over at once as the pass was thrown toward the end zone.

Hyun-woo held his breath.

I-geon was already on his feet.

Then an Eagles player intercepted the ball.

The room exploded.

“I TOLD YOU!”

Hyun-woo jumped off the couch.

Si-yul shouted something completely unintelligible before throwing himself onto Ji-ho, nearly making him spill his drink.

“Dude, my bourbon! Get off me!”

“WE WON!”

“I know! I was watching!”

Hyun-woo pointed at Do-ha from across the table.

“WHO’S ROOTING FOR THE WRONG TEAM NOW?”

Do-ha remained standing, completely still.

“That was a penalty.”

He pointed accusingly at the television.

His face had never looked so outraged.

Min-kyu immediately turned toward him.

“No, it wasn’t, man.”

“It was a penalty.”

“I’m rooting for your team.”

“Then why aren’t you backing me up? Are you crazy?”

“I’m not backing a scam.”

Do-ha nodded, somewhat put out.

“Admirable integrity.”

I-geon let out a genuine laugh as he looked at the two of them, even though he had also been rooting for the Cowboys.

Hyun-woo couldn’t remember the last time he had seen him having that much fun.

“You guys are terrible friends,” I-geon grumbled. “You got lucky.”

Hyun-woo was already laughing.

“We won.”

“By luck.”

“But we won,” Ji-ho added.

I-geon pointed at him.

“No one asked.”

“He really hates losing. Good Lord,” Si-yul said between laughs.

“I do not hate losing.”

Five faces turned toward him.

I-geon looked around.

“Go screw yourselves.”

Min-kyu started laughing first.

After that, there was no stopping the others.

The sun was beginning to take shape on the horizon, standing out against the concrete jungle stretching below them.

Inside the apartment were the remains of a night none of the six seemed to have planned on letting run so late.

The empty bourbon bottle.

Glasses still holding a little makgeolli and soju.

Open pizza boxes.

A television forgotten on mute.

And four men asleep around the living room.

Ji-ho occupied one end of the couch, his head tilted back.

Min-kyu had somehow managed to fall asleep almost sideways across the middle, while Si-yul had curled up at the other end.

In the end, no one had remembered that it was a very expensive Swiss couch.

Do-ha slept on the floor, using one cushion as a pillow and another over his face to keep the growing light from bothering him.

Hyun-woo watched the beginning of a new day from the same balcony where, the day before, he had been drinking alone.

This time, I-geon was beside him.

Neither of them spoke.

“I missed this,” I-geon said, breaking the silence.

Hyun-woo turned his head slightly.

“What?”

“Watching the sun rise. The icy morning air. Hearing the birds. This silence.”

I-geon kept his eyes on the horizon.

“All of this only exists at this hour. You’re the one who taught me that.”

“That’s true. I was trying to show you the important things in life.”

“I learned well.”

He smiled faintly.

Hyun-woo watched his friend for a few seconds before looking ahead again.

“But is that all you missed?”

I-geon fell silent.

“No… I missed everything.”

This time, I-geon finally looked at him.

“That was an incredible night.”

“It really was.”

Hyun-woo looked through the glass door at the destruction in the living room.

“I missed the things we used to do together.”

I-geon let out a quiet laugh.

“You missed partying, huh?”

“Us. All of us together.”

The answer slowly wiped the smile from I-geon’s face.

Not in a bad way.

It simply made the conversation more serious than it had been until then.

I-geon looked back toward the horizon.

“Me too.”

Hyun-woo said nothing.

“More than I wanted to admit,” I-geon added.

Silence returned for a few seconds.

“Do you think we can still do it?” I-geon asked.

“What?”

“Sing. Dance. Do all of that together again.”

Hyun-woo frowned as if the answer were obvious.

To him, it was.

“It’s like riding a bike.”

I-geon let out a short laugh.

“You say that because you’re not the one who has to hit those notes.”

“And you say that as if you forgot how to sing over the last fifteen months.”

“That’s not what I mean.”

Hyun-woo knew.

Maybe he had known from the moment I-geon asked the question.

“What if it isn’t the same?” I-geon continued.

Hyun-woo thought for a few seconds.

“I hope it isn’t.”

I-geon finally looked at him.

“Was that supposed to reassure me?”

“After twelve years, man… if we come back exactly the same, it means we haven’t learned a damn thing.”

A small smile appeared on I-geon’s face.

“Yeah. You’re right.”

“Finally acknowledging my wisdom.”

“Don’t push it.”

Hyun-woo laughed.

“Either way, I know everyone thought about it tonight.”

“How do you know?”

“They asked me to turn on the karaoke machine at four in the morning.”

I-geon burst out laughing.

“Si-yul got mad at the score he got singing his own song.”

“He said the machine was sabotaging his career.”

“For about twenty minutes.”

“And he still wanted to sue the manufacturer when he passed out on the couch.”

They laughed together.

Then the silence returned.

Hyun-woo looked once more at the four men sleeping around the living room.

He thought about the group chat.

The empty apartment.

The longing he had felt.

And then he thought about Blue Moon.

“Would you be up for… I don’t know… going to Blue Moon sometime?”

I-geon turned toward him.

“To do what?”

Hyun-woo shrugged.

“Nothing major. Just rehearse like we used to.”

For a moment, I-geon went completely still.

Hyun-woo didn’t try to fill the silence.

He didn’t want to turn the question into something bigger than it needed to be.

This wasn’t a meeting with ASTER.

It was just a room with six friends.

I-geon looked back toward the horizon and smiled.

“I would.”

“Yeah?”

“Without a second thought.”

Hyun-woo felt something inside his chest finally loosen.

I-geon looked toward the living room.

“We only have one small problem.”

“What?”

“We’re going to have to clean this place first.”

Hyun-woo followed his gaze.

“Hell no.”

I-geon laughed.

“It’s your house.”

“And the mess belongs to everyone.”

“Good luck explaining that to Ji-ho.”

“Well, then we have two missions.”

“Two?”

“Clean the house… and find out if they’re in too.”