Chapter Text
When he’s alone during the holidays, Minho numbers the days in his head. It keeps him tethered.
On day zero, he helps the other boys carry their luggage to the front gates. He hugs them goodbye, quipping a joke or two in the process, and watches their parents’ cars drive away until they disappear from view. Then, and only then, he drops the smile from his face and goes back inside to check in with House Park’s holdover supervisor Mrs Chun. Once he’s gotten through a five-minute lecture on rules and the consequences of not following them, he’s on his own.
For two weeks, he minds his own business; he reads, wanders through the forest, spends hours in the dance studio. Sometimes he sings to himself, when he’s sure no one can hear. Day four usually sees him bored enough to get started on his upcoming schoolwork. On day seven, he bakes himself something nice to celebrate the half-way point of the holidays. He negotiates with Mrs Chun to be allowed to go into town for a few hours on day nine, which she allows on good behaviour. If he’s lucky, he’s able to scrape together some money to buy himself a new book.
But at some point between days nine and eleven, despite his best efforts, he finds himself unable to keep ignoring the quiet. Lying on his bed motionlessly, he stares up at the ceiling and feels like his lungs are slowly and inexorably filling with lead. He stops perceiving anything outside of his immediate surroundings. He stops moving, other than to drag himself to meals. It's like something inside him has just... succumbed, to whatever this awful feeling is that's spreading through him like an oil spill - toxic, heavy, cloying.
That’s the worst part. But the other boys return on day thirteen, so he doesn’t have to push himself through it for too long.
*
Felix’ presence changes everything.