Chapter Text
Once upon a time, there was a young boy who lived with his happy family of four. He had a loving mother and father and a younger brother he would do anything for. The boy was interested in everything artistic, but his brother was more interested in the medical field and cancer research.
Originally, his brother wanted to be a teacher, but when their mother learned that she had a mutated strain of breast cancer with no known cure, his passion changed. Their family was desperate to save her, and all nonessential expenses were redirected to her medical bills. After a six month battle, she was taken by the illness and their father lost himself to his grief. He started coming back later from work, trying to find a way to drown the pain of his dead partner. The boy was left trying to manage the household because of the negligent spending of his father. Suddenly, the school he was set to attend on scholarship was unimportant. What mattered was making sure that his little brother could graduate and make it into a school that he wanted to.
When the children’s father was arrested for attacking the barman who was trying to get the man to go home, the boy’s college funding took a major hit to make sure his father would be represented well and get the best sentence possible. Then his brother got into the college of his dreams, but tuition was too much without a substantial scholarship so the boy’s account took another hit in order to make sure his brother was able to do what he wanted to, despite his brother’s protests.
A month after his brother moved away, the boy’s childhood home was repossessed and he was forced to move in with a family friend. The friend could only keep him for a few weeks, though, and that’s where we find the hero of our story.
Alone, with no home. His only shot at happiness is his brother’s success. And that is plenty for Lee Minho. After all, a home is what you make it.
~~~
One of these days, I’m going to learn not to listen to Taemin about potential crash sites. Minho thought bitterly as he dove in and out of the narrow alleyways, looking for the apparent “Best place I’ve ever seen, man. It was like a palace!”
“What type of bloody palace am I going to find just off the Han River?” he questioned, as he made his way across the road. If this was like all those American shows I used to watch, I would probably end up dead under an overpass for even considering listening to Tae’s advice. However, Minho had never been one to really listen to his conscious whenever it was telling him he was being stupid, so here he was going anyways.
Eventually, Minho reached the bank of the river. The flat, tree-less bank. Taemin, what the actual hell? Making a mental note to A) never trust Taemin for a place to stay again and B) slap the shit out of him the next time he saw him, Minho grumbled and began to move through the area as the sun began to set.
It was honestly a series of unfortunate events that led to his relocation. Minho had claimed a lovely corner in an alleyway next to a couple of kind souls who were willing to show him the way of the street. However, one day while he was out busking with his harmonica, he came back to find all of his belongings packed into a bag and a new tenant taking up residence in his corner of the alley. So, Minho was on the move again, looking for a temporary place to stay, but all of the local crash spots had been claimed to leave Minho no choice but to take Taemin’s advice and move to the park.
He walked for a few kilometers before finding a park with a few big trees and a few benches. He scanned the area and found a bench that was almost completely covered by the tree’s branches. He may end up being asked to leave, but for now, it looks like Minho had found his bed for the night.
Well, he thought as he unfolded the spare sheet he had taken from his room before he had to move, I guess this is as close as I’ll get to a home for now. Rolling onto his side, Minho pulled the blanket up to help fight the cold he could feel setting into his bones for the night.
I guess this is where I say “welcome home.”
~~~~
Spicy Salsa
HanSquirrel: writers block is a little bitch
HanSquirrel: who wants to find it and beat it with a baseball bat for me?
Dark_Binnie: i mean, im always down to beat something up but unlike you, i actually am inspired rn so no
BangBang: are you struggling for an assignment or for a personal project?
HanSquirrel: y e s
HanSquirrel: is there an all of the above option?
BangBang: well,, i hate to break it to you but idk what to do bro. Do you ahve any idea what youre going to write abt?
BangBang: have*
Dark_Binnie: if you had been paying literally ANY attention you would realize he does not, in fact, AHVE any idea what to write abt
BangBang: first of all
BangBang: fu
BangBang: second of all
BangBang: unlike you, he can actually think sometimes so he may actually have an idea of what he wants to write
BangBang: so shut the hell up
HanSquirrel: fyi the answer is no
HanSquirrel: I have no idea what im doing i want to die
Dark_Binnie: HAH @BangBang i TOLD YOU SO
BangBang: I already said shut up don’t make me go to your dorm
BangBang: okay @HanSquirrel, whyd ont you try a change of scenery? Go and walk along the Han River or smthing idk. Maybe it will help?
BangBang: at least, that’s whati do when i get frustrated with a chord progression.
Dark_Binnie: we get it. You’re productive. Meanwhile we have no productivity at all, as you can clearly tell by him coming here to complain
BangBang: asshole imtrying to be helpful
HanSquirrel: ugh would you shut up im SUFFERING and youre doing NOTHING to help me
BangBang: i will NOT hesitate to go to your dorm and rip you limb for limb. If i don’t see you at the river later, you better believe I will come to your room and DRAG YOU THERE MYSELF
HanSquirrel: oh gee look at the time
HanSquirrel: I totally forgot about my weekly Han on the Han time.
HanSquirrel: rip me guess ive gtg lol bye
Dark_Binnie: lol coward
BangBang: …
Dark_Binnie: oh dear look at that I have an essay for piano 101 that ive gotta write
HanSquirrel: thats not even a class you coward
Dark_Binnie: if you don’t leave me alone right now then im going to open a club called “killing people with a piano” and youll be my example
HanSquirrel: your threats mean nothing bc i crave death.
BangBang: .
Dark_Binnie: oh lol look at the time bi or smthing like that
HanSquirrel: hA looks like ive gotta zoom. Catch me an hour from now complaining abt the sun or some bs.
BangBang: good riddance
~~~~
Jisung would be the first to admit that he didn’t always make the most rational of decisions. His mother would be the second. When he told her that he didn’t plan on following in his father’s steps and going into business in order to work at their family ramen shop, and instead was going to be a music producer, she laughed in his face. When she realized he was serious, well, then she started to cry.
But, here he was, one year into his program and thriving. Or at least… that’s what his parents think. Considering his spending money for the next week was a single 10,000 won bill, he was very glad that he had befriended seniors who knew how to cook.
Regardless, Jisung knew he was at the river for a reason. That reason was not to bemoan his lack of money or ability to budget correctly. It was to bemoan the fact that he didn’t know what to write about.
Go the river, Chan said. I’m sure you’ll find inspiration there. After all, I always do because I’m just a god. Jisung stopped himself almost immediately with the bitter train of thought. Chan was just encouraging you, you absolute idiot. Stop mocking your nice helping seniors and try to actually focus.
Well, it’s kind of hard when you won’t shut up.
You’re literally arguing with yourself right now. This is why you only have two friends.
6! I have 6 friends.
Not if you don’t finish this freaking song.
Swine. I’m working on it.
Jisung stopped the argument he was having and turned away from the river that was doing absolutely nothing to help him. He made his way over to a park with a few benches around scattered about and prepared himself for another bout of people watching that would likely end with him more frustrated than before, but what does he know?
He pulled a legal pad and pen out of his backpack and curled onto the very uncomfortable bench, desperately wishing he could just people watch from his room, but knowing that he would never get anything done if he kept avoiding uncomfortable places.
On his left, there was a couple at the drink stand waiting for (if he had to guess) a drink for the two of them to share. Probably something gross and pink because they looked like the type of people who would be that obnoxious.
Scoffing, Jisung made note of the couple and turned his attention to the two old men playing some type of board game. It was obvious from the way they hunched over the board that they both knew each other's moves well, but they were still determined to find a way to outsmart the other. Grinning, he wrote down the scene along with the line “you can’t teach an old dog new tricks.”
Jumping at the sound of a screaming child, Jisung saw a distressed father trying to herd his children away from the bank of the river just as the couple passed by with… two bottled sodas. Dang it. They weren’t even colored unnaturally.
The father was able to successfully move his kids and the look of relief on his face was brief, as panic set in again as the two kids scampered off to go look at the next thing that caught their fancy.
Looking over to where the children were running, Jisung saw the back of a boy doing some type of busking. Pausing the music that was playing faintly through his earbuds, the soft murmur of the park surrounded him. Rising above the faint conversations around Jisung, and the rush of the river, there was the lilting melody of a harmonica. How someone could make those noises with it, he had no idea, but the music was absolutely beautiful.
Standing to get closer to the fun melody that filled the park, Jisung circled around the bench the busker was sitting at and… oh.
Jisung felt several thoughts run through his head in that one instance.
- The harmonica looked very worn down and was obviously well used.
- The man playing the harmonica was probably homeless if the state of his threadbare shirt and pants was anything to go off of.
- The music wasn’t the only beautiful thing in the park.
Jisung wouldn’t consider himself someone who makes rational decisions. Anyone in his close group of friends would agree with that sentiment. From the way he spent his money, to his inability to stay asleep at night without waking up with some odd question that more often than not involved feet, Jisung was a special soul.
That is why it would not have surprised any of his friends when he, while gazing at the man with somewhat tangled hair, nimble fingers, a small nose, and a posture that indicated he carried the world on his shoulders, put his last ten thousand won note into the hat resting beside the man on the bench.
Jisung will admit that he stayed in the park far longer than anyone would think the hyperactive boy to have been willing to, but he just sat at the bench nearest the man with his harmonica and Jisung listened. He listened to the happy tunes, to the sad ones, and the anxious ones. Jisung was shocked at the amount of emotion that was put behind such a simple instrument, and he quickly figured out lyrics to match at least three of the tunes that felt familiar but had no distinctive name.
That day, Jisung went to the park with writer's block, he returned to his room with a new muse that he desperately hoped would be there for the next couple of days as he tried to finish his final project for Lyrical Comp.
~~~~
Jisung was a proud man, but he was also a weak one. That is why the next day, instead of going out and scrounging up some food from some random place in his dorm, he was messaging his seniors, hoping one of them had made something he could steal for breakfast.
Spicy Salsa
HanSquirrel: So remember that one Tumblr post where the lady is like “i saw a man so beautiful i gave him literally everything in my wallet bc im unworthy” or smthing like that?
HanSquirrel: oh yeah also good morning
BangBang: yes good morning, Jisung. Glad to see you up to your usual shenanigans.
Dark_Binnie: oh my god youre so old. Just say shit like the rest of us and call it a day.
HanSquirrel: anyways yeah, totally unrelated to what I mentioned, but do any of you mayhaps want to donate either mcdonalds money or some free food to your favorite Jisung?
BangBang: im sorry what?
Dark_Binnie: wait no not again
Dark_Binnie: PLEASE tell me you didn’t give your food money to a random pretty stranger
HanSquirrel: I didn’t give my money to a random pretty stranger
BangBang: Han jisung so help me god
HanSquirrel: I gave it to a beautiful busker in the park yesterday. Duh.
HanSquirrel: So anyways. Food.
BangBang: I should really just tell you to fend for yourself but i went to the store yesterday and i made extra on accident. Just come over and bring your dancer friends. I haven’t seen them in awhile
Dark_Binnie: you mean the other people hes taken under his sugar daddy wings?
HanSquirrel: oh lookee here
HanSquirrel: guess ill just have to show hyunjin those love songs you left at my dorm the last time you were over.
BangBang: im sorry your WHAT
Dark_Binnie: han if you want to see the light of day again, I strongly suggest against that. Or you better believe Ill hunt down your new park play thing and tell him each and every one of your deepest and darkest secrets.
HanSquirrel: lmao wait you actually have love songs? Brb dying
BangBang: wait you like hyunjin?
Dark_Binnie: Jisung?
HanSquirrel: yes dear, beloved Bin?
Dark_Binnie: R U N
HanSquirrel: dw. Way ahead of you. I've already got my plane ticket to the us BOOKED
BangBang: well,, i guess that means you're not coming for breakfast?
HanSquirrel: no wait im desperate ill be over in 6.
BangBang: wtv, see you there
~~~~
Today was not going to be a good day. Minho could tell just by the way the clouds loomed over him. A storm was coming, and he really didn’t want to be out in the open when everything likely got drenched.
Looking into his backpack, he pulled the money he had made from busking at his new “home”. 37000 won. Nowhere near enough to get him someplace to stay for the night.
Minho scanned the mental map he had, looking for any nearby covered areas that the inhabitants may not mind a stray human in front of for the night.
Of course. He realized, the bakery has that awning and I’m pretty sure the store owner would let me stay there if I volunteered to work a shift. I’m pretty sure that’s what Taehyung did when there was a big storm that blew through.
Gathering his belongings, he got up and started walking to the on-campus bakery that was near the park. There weren’t many things that Minho could call his own. He had a blanket, change of clothes, a spare pair of socks, a toothbrush, deodorant, and some relatively inexpensive shampoo and body wash. He had a minute phone that he used to call his brother once a week and check in on how he was doing at college. And finally, probably the two most important items he had: his backpack and his harmonica. Minho had had the harmonica since he was in diapers. His father had given it to him and explained that his grandfather had left it to him and that he should protect it well. The backpack didn’t have near the same history, in fact, he had hated that backpack until the day it became his entire house. Minho had used the backpack for all of his core classes, and all it had really been good for was collecting papers with his average grades. But it was fine. Now, he is just a high school graduate trying to find a home and a job, just wanting to help his little brother to the best of his ability. Nothing would ever make him change the decisions he had made in life to reach this point, and he was glad that he was there.
Well, maybe not today. Minho looked up to see a lightning strike in the distance, hearing a low rumble of thunder roll across the city. I really hope the baker is in a good mood today.
Minho walked for about ten more minutes before he reached the little bakery. It was called Breaking Bread and was most well known for their movie and tv themed cupcake and pastry designs. Minho had gotten an in with the head pastry chef when he had seen Minho’s entry in the design a cake challenge. Minho had originally entered the competition for the prize money, and even though his design hadn’t taken first place, it had garnered enough attention to be useful. Whenever Minho found himself near the bakery, he would stop by and check in on the pastry chef’s status and see if he needed a volunteer for the day. More often than not, Minho was turned down, but some days he managed to catch the chef when he was short-handed. Those were the days Minho could insure a roof over his head.
Stepping into the lobby area, Minho waved to the part-time workers who were putting the fresh baked goods into the display window. They smiled and pointed to the office door a little way away from the register. Minho took a deep breath and walked into the small room, a friendly grin plastered on his face and walking as if he had a metal rod welded to his spine. Good impressions were everything.
The head chef looked up from the paperwork he had been reading through and gave a small sigh when he saw Minho walk into the room. “Let me guess,” the tired man said, “You’re here to beg a job off of me.”
Minho smiled shamelessly as he sat in the chair across the desk. “I’m not necessarily here to beg, but I could if that would amuse you?” He relaxed a little when the chef laughed -- he was in a good mood today.
“I saw the weather and I figured you’d be stopping by. Sana is
thrilled.
I let her leave early because she had to take care of her nieces today.” Minho kept his face cool and polite, even as his stomach leaped at the direction the conversation was taking. “You can work in the front on icing today. I actually hired a new worker so if you wouldn’t mind showing him a few of the ins and outs of the store, that would be a huge load off of my plate.”
Standing up, the chef went over to the cabinet he kept Minho’s spare uniform in. It was a simple thing, khaki pants with a white shirt and a green apron, but Minho absolutely loved the apron and would find little pins and knickknacks to stick to it in order to make it more his own. Minho bowed as he took the clothes and thanked the chef for the opportunity.
“Don’t mention it. You’re like the son I never had, even if I can’t let you work here every day, whenever I can, you know I’m happy to fit you in. Just don’t make my customers mad and we’ll be fine.” With a fond grin, the chef stepped back behind his desk and looked back down at his papers, the grin quickly fading.
Minho smiled as he left the room and moved to the bathroom to change. While he was in there, he went ahead and took the liberty of doing some small grooming things. He brushed his teeth and ran his fingers through his hair -- he would try to wash it that night after he got off of his shift. After freshening up, he quickly got changed and put his backpack in the backroom before making his way to the front of the store. He greeted the assistant chef and the dough workers as he moved through the room before getting to the counter kept in the front of the store.
Minho saw a tired-looking boy sitting at the register, waiting for someone to come in, and figured he must be the new employee the chef had hired considering he hadn’t seen the boy before. He walked over to the boy and tapped him on the shoulder, startling the boy (and himself) in the process.
“Oh! Uh, hi.” he stuttered out. God, why was he so bad at introductions? “My name is Minho, I’m going to be working with you today.”
The boy gave him a fixed customer service grin and replied, “Hi, I’m Seungmin and I’m new here. I hope we can work together well!” Minho scoffed, causing Seungmin to give him a bewildered look.
“ Please don’t give me that fixed bullshit.” Seungmin let out a startled laugh and looked toward the head chef’s door, but Minho didn’t let him worry too much before continuing. “Anyways, to answer all the generic “get to know you” questions: my name is Lee Minho. I am 21 years old and I currently live in the park about two kilos away from here. I love anything art related, but I have a special affinity with dancing and playing instruments. Is there anything else you’d like to ask me?”
Seungmin’s fixed smile had fallen off of his face as he gaped at the amazingly honest and beautiful (and strong--don’t forget strong) person in front of him. At least, that’s what Minho thought the reason was. He wasn’t really ashamed of living on the street, everyone goes through ups and downs in life, and this just so happened to be his low in life. People might pity him, but if they decide he isn’t a better person for it, then that is their own issue they’ll have to sort out.
Minho grinned at his shocked coworker and turned to start wiping down the counters. Icing was a dangerous game for anyone involved, and the stainless steel counters didn’t quite fancy the sugar levels of the treat. Hearing Seungmin shift off his stool, he turned and watched as his coworker removed two chocolate chip cookies from a tray and bagged them. He quickly rang the cookies up and turned to Minho with an expectant look on his face. Holding out the cookies, he said, “My name is Kim Seungmin. I am currently studying vocal therapy at the local college. I have been there for one year, and that is one year I’ve been away from home. I am 19 years old and when I graduate, I plan on staying in Seoul and working at a local nursing home so I can maybe give the elderly something peaceful to hear in their last few years. Would you like a cookie?”
Seungmin smiled and shook the bag that was hanging between the two of them. It seems Minho wasn’t the only one who was willing to step out of their comfort zone for the day. Minho smiled and grabbed the bag before removing one cookie and handing the bag back to Seungmin. At his confused glance, Minho explained, “You bought two cookies, and two people shared something about themselves the other didn’t previously know. So... it only seems right that two people get a cookie.”
Biting down into the treat and glancing up to see Seungmin doing the same, Minho grinned and said around his mouthful of cookie, “And please feel free to call me ‘hyung.’”
~~~~
After the rather peaceful cookie break at the start of the shift, Minho and Seungmin set to work on cleaning up the front of the store and making sure the goodies all looked presentable. Minho showed Seungmin how to smooth the icing out on the cookies so it all looked connected and not so much like the icing had just been added.
About two hours into Minho’s shift, Seungmin was getting ready to leave for the day when a rather loud group of people tumbled into the relatively quiet space. Minho heard a faint “Oh no,” from behind him, but didn’t question it, customer service mode already engaged.
“Hello, welcome to Breaking Bread. Would you like to try our freshly baked and iced sugar cookies?” He asked as the boys crowded around the counter.
Instead of responding to him, the tallest boy called to his frozen coworker, “Yo Seungmin, you get to work and smell these cookies every day? No wonder you decided part-time was the way to go.” At the casual way he was addressed, Minho realized that these must be Seungmin’s friends.
Well, obviously the boy has a knack for attracting raw beauty to his side if he somehow managed to befriend this lot and me. Minho thought as he smirked and the irritated look that graced his ever so patient coworker’s face.
“For real,” the boy with blond hair chimed in and oh my god how can someone look like that but sound like that? Minho questioned as he turned his attention back to the trio. “I would actually need to go to the gym and start acting like Channie and Changbinnie if I worked here.”
The third boy scoffed, still not looking up from his phone, and chimed in with a simple, “A cookie a day brings diabetes to stay.” Snorting, Minho moved in front of the still-frozen Seungmin and bent down so the boys would notice him.
“Hello,” he greeted with a smile sweeter than the godforsaken icing. “My name is Minho. Is there anything I can get for you today? Perhaps a roll or a bottle of water?” The boys froze for a second, seemingly realizing that they weren’t following the standard customer to employee code of conduct.
“Ah yes,” the blond responded, being the first one to break out of his daze. “We’ll take four cookies and two water bottles, please? Two of the flower cookies and one oatmeal raisin, plus one of whatever Minnie wants. His shift is done soon right?”
Minho smiled as he moved to fulfill the order, already placing a pecan sandy into the bag for Seungmin. He had seen the boy eyeing them all day, but not getting one because he had already bought the chocolate chip cookies. “Yes, his shift ends in the next five minutes, although he could probably go ahead and leave now if he wanted to.”
He turned to look at Seungmin, seeing the boy knocked out of his panicked daze and now calmly ringing the order up. “It’s going to be 12,000 won. Are you going to be splitting the bill?”
The tall boy walked over to Seungmin and leaned against the counter as a smirk fell on his face, almost as if it was always there. “Ah see, we would, but some local idiot you know decided to continue with his sugar daddy ways and decided to sponsor some random dude in the park by donating his last 10,000 note to the poor soul.”
Seungmin fixed a look on his face that Minho was beginning to think was a permanent state of being for the boy around this particular group of people. “Dear God, not again. I thought he had moved past giving money to pretty people after he somehow hooped you and Felix into the group.”
“ Excuse you? I am a delight. Thank you very much.” The blond boy griped, moving to stand next to the taller boy. So the short one must be Felix. Does that mean that the one who donated to the random person is the one still on his phone?
“Okay,” the blue hair boy said, finally glancing up from where he had been typing furiously. “First of all, he was an absolute angel and that “random guy” saved me from my writer's block. Second of all, I don’t appreciate this absolute slander of my good name.” Minho snorted as he saw the trio prepare for the tirade the boy was going to unleash upon them. At the quiet noise, though, the boy turned and seemed to lose all form of coherent thought for a brief minute.
“Jisung?” Seungmin asked, moving a little to try to catch Jisung’s (?) sight. Seeing his friend seemed to snap the dazed look (honestly if this kept up, Minho was going to have to start a tally board) out of his eye and he turned back to his friends, flustered.
Thinking nothing of it, Minho turned back to where he had begun icing the marbled cookies for the window display. It was one of the only ways he could pretend he was in a coffee shop because of the way he was supposed to design the cookie to resemble latte art. But that was neither here nor there, as the real reason he had started on those particular cookies was to eavesdrop on the surprisingly interesting conversation.
“Anyways this guy was absolutely amazing and he didn’t even notice me so it was not sugar daddy behavior and I am disgusted that you would ever consider me, broke college student Han Jisung capable of successfully paying for two lives.” He scoffed, “I can barely pay for three-quarters of my own.”
Felix (at least, Minho thought that was his name) grinned and waggled his eyebrows at a flustered Jisung. “It also doesn’t help that you thought he was pretty .”
Jisung groaned as the tallest one giggled. “Oh. My. God. Do you ever shut up? Maybe find someone else to write you a song for your choreo now you absolute heathens.”
“The only heathen here is you,” Seungmin snapped from where he was still waiting at the register. “Now would one of you please pay so you can leave this store? Just look at my coworker, you’re exhausting him with your constant babbling.” Minho, catching along, pretended to muffle a giant yawn before going back to his icing job. When a shadow moved in front of his cookies, he looked up to see Jisung smiling shyly at the counter.
“Those cookies look really pretty. What type are they?” He asked, and Minho almost melted on the spot. Damn it, heart, pull yourself together.
“Ah, these are a coffee and vanilla marble cookie. I’m icing these ones for the display window because the big boss really likes how I do the art on them.” He grinned up at the boy before ducking his head back down to focus on the particularly difficult swirl he was trying to complete on the cookie.
“I can see why, you must really love art if you’re willing to put that much effort into it,” Jisung muttered to the top of his head. Minho grinned and replied, “It’s not so much the effort that needs to go into something. It’s the love that goes into a project that makes it beautiful.”
Before Jisung could reply to that, the taller boy gave a sharp whistle from the door. “Jisunggie! Stop falling in love and hurry up! Changbin is waiting for us at your dorm for the movie to start!”
Jisung blushed violently before giving another soft smile to Minho and turning to his friend, expression immediately changing as he made his way to the door. “Alright Hyunjinnie, if you keep talking like that, I’ll be sure to let Changbin know how you rushed everyone out the door the second you heard you might see him. Honestly, you can’t even spell whipped without your name. Asshole.”
The boys continued to bicker as the door swung shut behind them (Hyunjin claiming that one letter didn’t make much difference in a word, and Jisung putting his hands over his ears and humming to drown out the taller boy) and Seungmin immediately relaxed and released a long sigh. “I’m sorry about my friends, they can be a real handful.” He looked over at Minho and smiled kindly, “But you handled them pretty well! Thank you for putting up with them for me, hyung.”
Minho smiled at the boy and patted his back as he passed by to grab a spare towel to clean the space he was just working in. “It was no problem, they were actually pretty entertaining to listen to.”
Seungmin grinned and typed his number into the time punch. “Well,” he began as he gathered his things from the bottom shelf, “maybe next time I can meet your friends to return the favor. Bye hyung!” Not noticing the smile slip off of Minho’s face, Seungmin darted out of the door and ran in the same direction that the noisy trio had gone in.
“Bye, Minnie! Have fun with your friends!” Minho called to Seungmin’s retreating figure before wiping down the counters (again. What can he say, he’s thorough?) and contemplating what Seungmin had said.
Minho was a pretty social guy. He could easily fit into several different clans of homeless people in Seoul, but there had never been a group that he really clicked with. Minho remembered one of his old friends from high school, Chan. He was probably the only person Minho would ever consider introducing to his kind coworker, the homeless crowds would probably be way too rough for him. Of course, it didn’t matter now. Of course, Chan was probably off being somewhere successful in the world while Minho scrubbed counters to keep a roof over his head.
Snorting, Minho brushed the bitter thoughts away and scratched at a particularly dried bit of icing to get it to come free. Once he was sure his area was clean, Minho sat on the stool Seungmin had been occupying for the afternoon and waited for his next round of tasks to roll around. Whether it be prepping sweets or helping customers, Minho resolved to do so gratefully and not let his bitterness come into his daily work. He had made every decision that had led him to this point, and no matter how much he may wish for small luxuries, Minho knows that he would never change what he has for anything. And with that thought running through his brain, Minho smiled as the bell dinged, signaling the door had opened and greeted the tired mother and her three kids with a smile.
If you fill your life with joy, no bitterness will be able to take root.
~~~~
Jisung knew the third degree was coming. He expected it the second Hyunjin told Seungmin about the busker he gave his money to. Granted, Jisung hadn’t expected the boy to be there, but he obviously didn’t recognize Jisung, nor did he seem to know what the four friends were talking about. Jisung was honestly surprised to learn that the busker -- Minho? -- worked at the bakery Seungmin had been trying to get into for at least a month.
After looking at Minho’s work, Jisung could see that his passion for art extended over not just music. With the care he iced the cookies, Jisung almost fell for the boy right there, but he knew that he would never hear the end of it if he let his friends know, so some tame flirting was all that he could allow himself to do.
When the boys got back to Jisung’s dorm, a lazy “hey,” greeted them from the small living area he had. Changbin had made the place his, there was a laptop with a producing program opened on Jisung’s small coffee table and there were various snacks scattered about the place that had not been there when Jisung had left.
“Please,” Jisung commented drily, “make yourself at home.” The rest of the boys snorted as they moved through the doorway and shed their shoes and coats. Seungmin snuck in behind Felix and gave Jisung a look that made the boy flinch back. He wasn’t going to get out of the discussion of his stupidity.
Stalling the inevitable for as long as possible, Jisung put on his perfect host personality and closed Changbin’s laptop (not that he noticed, he was too busy listening to the story Hyunjin was recounting about the dogs he had seen on the way) before going to get drinks for the five of them.
It had been a while since Jisung had had this many people in his room, and he was just grateful he had recently cleaned up. After grabbing five water bottles from the mini-fridge he kept in the corner of his room, Jisung turned to see everyone’s eyes on him. Sighing, he sat down and raised his arms, inviting the questions he knew were coming to be thrown at him.
Seungmin started the conversation by asking him to give a full recollection of what had happened. Jisung happily recounted his daring adventure to the park and the beautiful music he had heard (and could still hear as he retold the story) before finally admitting he had donated his last 10000 won to Minho.
“So that explains the lack of money at the bakery, but why did you suddenly act like your mommy made you go buy ice cream by yourself when you saw Minho?” Seungmin questioned. Jisung gulped and glanced down at the floor before answering, “He was the busker I saw yesterday.” Based on the coos that came from around him, he could tell that his friends were not going to let this minor crush he seemed to have to go.
“I mean,” Hyunjin chimed in, “at least I can agree that he was pretty. Your man had some beautiful eyes.” Jisung blushed and glanced over, only to find Changbin glaring at him. Ah yes, he thought, the little green monster is rearing his head.
Felix had been sitting and staring at Jisung throughout the whole interview, it seemed that he didn’t have much to say, but then he sat forward and looked at Seungmin. “Hey Minnie,” he began. “What can you tell us about Han’s one true love?”
Ignoring Jisung’s offended squawk, Seungmin looked over to Felix from where he had sprawled on the floor. “Well, he told me that he’s 21 years old. He really likes anything art or music-related. I learned that he has a little brother who just started college in Busan this year. I think that’s about it?”
“Did you find out where he lives?” Hyunjin giggled from where he had curled against Changbin’s side. Apparently, the jealousy had subsided if the fond look on Changbin’s face was anything to go off of. “Jisung needs to know where to stand with his boom box to get his lover’s attention.”
Seungmin shifted and looked in no general direction as he replied. “I don’t really know if I can say this, but he seemed pretty open about it?” Jisung looked sharply at him at the uneasy tone in Seungmin’s voice. “Minho is homeless. I’m pretty sure he was busking at the park because that’s where he sleeps.”
Jisung nodded along. So that’s why he was busking. Some people do it for fun, some people do it because...
Wait.
“Did you say Minho is homeless?” Jisung sat up and glared at Seungmin. The boy nodded and seemed to plead with his eyes for Jisung to drop the subject. Shocked, he did just that, sitting back and wondering what cruel fate would allow someone as obviously talented as Minho to end up on the streets.
Sensing a lull in the conversation, Changbin glanced around before moving to put on a movie, the original reason they were there, after all. As the opening credits rolled onto the screen for some random inspirational sports movie, Jisung found himself unable to pay attention to the screen as his mind kept wandering back to the artist with no bed to return to for the night. And, try as he might, he couldn’t get Minho out of his head.
~~~~
“Hey, Innie,” Minho greeted when he picked up the call from his younger brother. Minho knew that he was going to call at some time that day, he was just glad Jeongin had waited until later in the day so he could have a full conversation with him once his shift got done.
Sitting on the step of the covered entrance to the bakery, Minho nodded to people passing by. Jeongin began rambling in his ear about what he had been learning the past week, and Minho closed his eyes and let his brother’s excited voice consume him. Not understanding any of the terminology thrown at him, Minho still made noises at the appropriate times as Jeongin went on and on about some type of analysis of the small intestine and then the stomach and on and on it went.
After rambling for what must have been thirty minutes of descriptions of random innards, Jeongin finally calmed down enough to ask Minho about his week. Minho carefully told him how he had recently changed his busking location to one closer to the bakery he was working at part-time. He also told Jeongin about the choreography he was working on for his dance team.
Jeongin was completely unaware of Minho’s lack of a home. He still thought the boy lived in their family house and commuted daily to a local dance academy where he was training to become a dance teacher. While Minho wished that was the case, he had to drop out of the course a semester in because he couldn’t pay tuition without taking ridiculously high loans. Having remained on the streets for almost three months at that time, he thought he was doing pretty decently, however, with winter rolling in, he knew this is where the real test of his survival skills would come in.
When there was a low rumble of thunder that rolled across the sky, Jeongin asked Minho where he was, and Minho had to make some excuse about walking home because he got released too late to catch his bus. Ignoring the concerned noises Jeongin let out, Minho quickly said goodbye to his brother and promised to text him as soon as he got home.
Jeongin reluctantly let the other go, and Minho pulled back to sit against the door, as far away from the pavement that would eventually get soaked, he sighed and prepared himself for one of the longer nights he had had since leaving his house.
As the rain started gently falling, Minho closed his eyes and started humming along to a tune he had heard Seungmin singing earlier that day. After about ten minutes of just listening to the rain and singing, he opened his eyes to shoot a message to Jeongin to reassure him Minho had made it “home” safely, only to pause at the figure standing in front of him.
Glancing up, desperately hoping it wasn’t a police officer, Minho was surprised to see an angry Han Jisung glaring down at him with an umbrella clutched tightly in his hand.
“What are you doing here?” Minho asked, “Don’t you have somewhere that’s not outside that you should be at?”
Jisung glowered at Minho before holding a hand out for the confused boy to take. Minho grabbed Jisung’s hand and gave a startled yelp as he was pulled up from his perch on the step.
“I’m here because you don’t have somewhere not outside to be. So you’re coming with me.” Minho began to protest as he was dragged along under the umbrella, the rain beginning to pick up.
“I had a perfectly good place to stay. The awning would have kept me plenty dry.” Jisung just scoffed and the two boys continued into the storm until turning into a well-lit stair area. Minho belatedly realized he must have been brought to Jisung’s dorm.
Minho tried to protest again, only to be silenced by a glare shot his way. Trailing up the stairs behind Jisung like a lost dog, Minho wondered how the boy he had only met that day had taken such an interest in him.
Coming to a door, Jisung didn’t even bother fumbling for a key before pounding on the door. It was quickly opened and Minho’s eyes widened as he was met with Seungmin’s tired face. At least now he knew why Jisung knew he didn’t have somewhere to stay for the storm.
Seungmin quickly grew alert when he saw his coworker behind his friend’s back and he backed away from the door, letting Jisung lead Minho into the softly lit living area. Minho realized that, despite the small area Jisung had, he obviously tried to make the room feel as homy as possible. There was an elevated bed pushed against the wall with a desk crammed beneath it, and a chair with jackets and other random clothes piled on top of it. Two pop-up chairs and a cheap storage ottoman were pushed against the other wall and there was a laptop currently propped on the ottoman, which Minho could tell normally just sat between the two chairs, with a movie paused on it. In the corner, there was a mini-fridge and what looked like a laundry/school work area.
After looking around the room, Minho turned his attention to the people currently gaping at him. (Or Jisung, who had just finally managed to calm down.) Minho saw the other two boys who had been in the bakery that day and noticed Hyunjin curled against a boy with an oddly pointy chin, both staring at him with eyes blown wide. This must be Changbin, then. Minho thought to himself, gearing up for an introduction.
Before he could begin, however, he was interrupted by a curt, “Everyone, this is Minho, he’s staying here tonight because of the storm. Behave.” With the thinly veiled threat hanging in the air, Jisung went and curled up in the empty chair, Seungmin’s soft protest letting Minho know that it had most likely been where the teen was sitting, before pressing play on the movie. Obviously trying to make the situation feel as normal as possible.
Felix, the short one, smiled at him and patted the floor next to him. Minho moved over and sat stiffly next to him, and he only jumped a bit when Felix threw half of the blanket he had been using onto Minho’s lap. “Don’t worry about Jisung,” Felix whispered to Minho. “He gets like this when he’s worried about his friends. He’ll be back to his usual cheery self once he realizes you’re okay.” Looking over to see a reassuring smile on Felix’s face, he nodded quickly before turning to watch what was left of the movie.
Before he got too invested in it, though, he remembered that he promised to text Jeongin when he got home, and he figured Jisung’s dorm would be better than his original plan, so he messaged him quickly:
GardenHoe: I’m staying at a friend’s house tonight. They picked me up when it started raining so I wouldn’t look like a drowned rat when i got home lol
FoxedIn: Good! Stay safe, hyung. I worry about you
FoxedIn: I don’t know how to heal major injuries yet. Give me at least two years before you get hurt.
Smiling fondly at his phone, Minho turned it off and noticed a curious glance from Seungmin. Shrugging, Minho pointed in Jisung’s direction before glaring at the younger boy. Seungmin mouthed sorry at him, and Minho figured that would be the best he would get from the boy who had been worrying about him that day already.
Minho let out a content sigh and turned his attention back to the movie. I guess this isn’t going to be one of my worst nights after all.