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Summary
Changbin's body shook in the sheer cold of night. He couldn't imagine how Minho felt, in nothing more than his Lotteria uniform, repeatedly tossing loaded trash bags into the dumpster. He couldn't imagine what must be going on in that boy's head. He couldn't see what was so special about him, why he needed to collect information on him. Stuck inside his thoughts, he didn't realize he was actually making eye contact with said boy, who stared at him as if he was insane.
"Um.. hi!" He said. The eye contact felt like ice shards stabbing his eyeballs. Too tense.