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It's quiet in Dongho's room, the beginnings of a sunset filtering in through gauzy curtains and backpacks dropped in the corner. The trashcan's full too, a now-empty pizza box and a liter bottle of soda crammed in amongst crumpled sheets of notes.
Minsung sighs, his hand resting next to Dongho's.
"You're thinking again. What's going on, Sung?"
"...I want to run away."
The sentence hangs in the air for a second. This isn't... new, not in the slightest, but for Minsung to still be considering it...
"I... I know it'd be stupid — I mean, you're just starting to drive, and I can't drive for shit, neither of us has a job or job experience or anything, our parents can see our bank activity, so there's no way in hell we could get a hotel room or anything..."
"That doesn't matter. Just... just get it off your chest, for now, yeah?"
"...I'm just sick of living like this. I want to be myself, not... not the stupid daughter my parents want."
"Mhm..."
Minsung groans, rubbing at his eyes. "I mean... it's $200 to get emancipated. Another $200 or so to get your name changed, no clue about gender markers... plus plane tickets..."
"Plane tickets?"
"Y'know, to go to Korea?"
Dongho feels a soft smile quirk up on his lips. They've discussed this before, plans to move to Korea. "We've got our college funds, y'know. It won't take that much work to hide it if we wait until we're 18 to change our names and all that stuff here..."
"What, and wait another two years to get surgery?"
"Sung... who's going to take care of you here if you get surgery... my parents won't let you stay with us if they find out, your mom sure as hell won't let you stay in your house..."
"Stop being reasonable," Minsung scowls. "I wish I had... a fuckin'... chest tumor or something. Then they'd have to do something..."
"...I guess they would have to do something, then..."
"See? The plan's easy. Get your phone, put it on your chest, and boom, cancer. That's what my mom says, at least."
"Your mom has a few screws loose if you ask me."
"Oh, I know."
Dongho sighs again, the sound loud in the once-again quiet room. "So... Korea. We're going to college together, we're gonna get an apartment - "
"Have you ever thought about jumping off the freeway?"
"...no."
Time slows to a halt, and then it all rushes forward again.
"I mean. Even just threatening to. Someone would take me seriously, right?"
"...c'mon, Minsung, what color do you think we should paint the kitchen once we move?" Dongho lays on the carpet, eyes glued to the ceiling, hoping that he didn't mess up.
Minsung hums to himself. "A good sage green. White counters, white backsplash."
"That'd be nice..."
"Exactly. I watch HGTV for a reason."
It takes a second, but they both smile, laughter bubbling up as they make eye contact.
"Imagine being an interior designer... but... but you say you're qualified because you watch HGTV," Minsung wheezes.
"Easy money?"
Minsung laughs even harder at that, but it dissolves into coughs soon after.
"...you still have a smoker's cough."
"I told you, I quit. Don't worry."
"I always worry about you."
Minsung shrugs. "Don't."
"We're planning to adopt multiple cats when we're older, how the fuck can I not worry about you?"
"Find another possible cat co-parent?"
"There's no one else like you, though."
Minsung squeezes Dongho's hand. The silence feels comfortable now, cast in shades of gold and pink, and they bask in it. Both can feel the small ring the other wears — a set, one with the sun and one with the moon.
For what feels like just a moment, they have something that could pass for peace.
But then they hear it. A key scraping in the lock.
Minsung leaps to his feet, shoving papers in his bag and shoes on his feet. Dongho props the window open and, with a small drop, Minsung's out of the house.
He gives a farewell wave to Dongho, and then he disappears into the growth of bushes that covers the hill behind Dongho's house.
Dongho sits, watching, as Minsung's cotton-candy bleached hair shows up in his own backyard — just down the hill from Dongho's house.
Minsung turns back, giving one last wave before he ducks into his house. Dongho doesn't dare wave back, instead watching the sunset as he knows his mom's walking down the hallway.
Dongho's not sure if they're joking about Korea anymore.
He hopes it's not a joke. He likes peace like this.
"Oh, there you are — didn't your father tell you we have a late meeting tonight? Get dressed, nicely, that means a good dress — yes, sweetheart, I'm telling her now — and please put some makeup on. We're leaving in twenty minutes, so - "
"I'll be ready," Dongho says quietly.
He misses Minsung already.