Chapter Text
🐹
The heat from the sink was burning to the cuts on his hands, hot water sinking into the fresh wounds. He winced as the soap touched them. the lemon scent mocking the sting. blood, still dripping from his hands into the metal bottom of the sink. the shiny carmine liquid fading into light pink as it was sucked into the drain, never to be seen again.
his hair was no longer fluffy from the pulling his boyfriend had done earlier, the tears still forming in his eyes, that seemed to hold the universe, now too dull and glassy for a Wednesday evening.
his past wonder enchanted demeanor , now saddened and painted to the face of an old and cracked porcelain doll, tired of sitting on the shelf for years, and years, to never see the joy they used to bring again.
the stars seemed to shine in sorrow today. Jisung was just trying to be happy his ears were left untouched and undiscovered of the little devices that meant too much to him.
hearing aids, still where they were placed on his ears that morning, loose, but secure on his head.
it was a scary thought to imagine what would happen if Agma found out about the hearing aids, the batteries, the doctors appointments, the title that Jisung hatted so much:
the poor boy with hearing loss since birth, that relied on hearing aids his whole life.
and
the deaf kid.
to anyone else, mostly kids, the same ones that hated him for no reason, the ones that tirelessly bullied and mocked him for his lack of 'natural hearing' as they put it. he was 'the freak,' 'the weird kid' the one no one could play with, 'the fragile weirdo.' God he hated when parents said they needed to be gentle with him because, 'they don't need to pay for new ears' whatever that was supposed to mean. everyone hated him for being deaf and he hated that.
The truth is though, it was oddly peaceful being deaf. the silence was wonderful.
as a kid he always thought it was great being able to turn of his ears, (the bullying being put aside,) because there was often yelling in his childhood house, so he liked to take off the hearing aids to sit in blissful quiet, often reading or playing with his toys.
he was curious about the world but never got to explore it, he was always told, " if you get you hearing aids wet your going to get hurt!" or " your hearing aids will die one day and you'll be in trouble then!" or his personal favourite, "when your ears don't work, neither do you!"
though it stung more than he would admit, the world was just not made for him, and that was okay.
the weight of the objects on his ears became obvious when he realized that they were falling off, the faint vibrations of the floor from an impending doom shook through his feet.
Agma couldn't know……. He could never ever know….The things he would do…..
"Jisung are you done being a pussy and crying about some w'ittle cuts?" Agma mocked.
Jisung's hands flew to the sides of his head. the small machines responsible for his hearing were sliding off, in his hands and exposed to an abuser. he couldn't put them back on properly so he awkwardly held his hand in place for them to work just enough for him to sort of hear what the man was saying.
"what are you doing? put your hands down you idiot, "Agma ordered.
"I'm- um, I-just, um- nothing." Jisung stuttered, Agma looked at him questioning his words.
"You're doing something and I want to know what, Jisung." Agma whispered coldly, walking up to Jisung with ice in his eyes.
the steps vibrated into the small bathroom. Jisung wanted to sink into the floor and weep out all of his small, saddened heart. The damned thing seemed to stop every few seconds. for, the porcelain seemed to be spreading into his heart.
"Agma I promise I'm not doing anything" Jisung begged, glass reflecting in his eyes.
"I don't believe you."
like a shot, Agma's hand flew to Jisung's wrist, clutching it tightly. the fresh cuts stung like hell. small trickles of blood still flowing, not yet scabbed, but it seemed to add to Agma's smile as he ripped the smaller boy's wrist down from his head to reveal the device inside.
this is the end for me. I'm going to die here. in the fucking bathroom of all places. why the bathroom? why me? what did I do to deserve this!? please! I'm sorry! I am!
the grip in Jisung's wrist tightened.
"you have exactly three seconds to explain what that is." Agma"s tone was calm, almost warm, but of course that was faked. one of the many tricks he had used on Jisung so many times before.
"three."
"it's nothing." Jisung muttered, almost pleading with his glass eyes to be let go.
"two,"
"please! Agma, it's nothing!" he begged
"one"
"it nothing! I'm telling you! their nothing! please!"
"wrong answer."
the hit was like a sack of bricks being slapped on Jisungs face.
the pain was immediate, but soon faded into black as he felt his knees hit the floor and eyes roll back. the back of his head slapped onto the floor as his hand was ripped open, the device inside, taken.
he woke a few hours later to silence, not the kind that was confronting, not the silence of the house when Agma was at work, but the familiar silence of deafness he was forced to hear when he took his hearing aides out. the quiet that could swallow him whole if he wasn't so used to it and basically programmed to enjoy at this point .
he looked around. where was he? not his bed obviously, not the couch, not his boyfriend's room, not even the kitchen floor he'd picked himself up off of after tough nights with Agma.
no… this was different.
he could feel cold tile on his neck the ceiling, white and pop corned, stared back at him, a small bathroom fan peeked out from the side of his vision.
he looked around. to his right, black cabinets stared back at him. his left, a wall.
clutched in his hand was one hearing aid.
one…
where was the other?
he felt around his hand; the hearing aid had died at some point last night. he knew this because the little beeping they did when they were low on the battery went off before he blacked out completely.
he needed his batteries.
but he also needed his other hearing aid.
he sat up, his face throbbing, hands stinging, he looked down at them and almost cried. they were scabbed and red, his nails were drawn on with permanent marker. spelling the word
"BITCH"
on both hands.
tears stung at his eyes as he stared back at the words.
sobs threatened to choke out,his throat ached as he held back the dampness of his eyes that was trying, and succeeding at their grand escape. the light above flickered like a threat, then went fully out leaving Jisung in the full darkness of the bathroom.
his pathetic sniffs echoed off the walls. he didn't like the dark, especially now when he couldn't hear anything. he was helpless, sitting there on the floor, tiles freezing his unsocked feet. nothing to light his way out of the bathroom. just his free hand grabbing at the sink.
the tears spilled pathetically from his eyes. the floor was getting wetter every second, like a rain cloud appeared and decided to camp out in the bathroom.
the happenings of prior hours hit him like it was the first time remembering the violent side of his boyfriend. but it hit harder now, than ever before.
Agma had seen one of his hearing aids, worse he had probably taken one with him after Jisung knocked out.
his head throbbed as he reached his free hand up to hold it.
the darkness swallowed him whole.
he stood, leaning on the sink for support. only for his hands to slip and him collapse on the floor, gut wrenching sobs echoing off the walls.
he wanted to leave the bathroom and go into the hallway to find his batteries or at least a flash light. but his body wouldn't work properly. he just kept falling back to the floor if he tried to get up.
All, if any, hope left his body when he tried to stand one last time.
he again, collapsed onto the floor.
the full realization came when he felt vibrations through the floor .
Agma was coming. the steps felt heavy and angry. rattling the door as he approached.
The door opened, revealing a red Agma with a flashlight in hand and in the other….. Jisungs hearing aid……
the little white device was sent flying at Jisung and… it was on?
he rushed to push the aid into his ear and was calmed down slightly when he heard air rush past his ears. but the calm was short lived as he heard Agma speak.
"get out Jisung… now."
the words where like gun shots into his heart.
"what?" Jisung whispered helplessly.
"I want you out." Agma spat.
the door slammed behind him as Agma walked out. the sound echoing in Jisung's head like it was an empty room waiting for sound to fill it.
that was it… Agma was done toying with this pathetic boy, sobbing on the floor. there was probably no way to get him back now that he knew Jisung's secret.
the rest of the morning went by in a blur. he was yelled at. his given a snake bite on his already bruised arms, and beat harder than ever before, just to leave Jisung with a reminder for the following weeks that he was a worthless piece of shit.
on the way out of the house Agma yelled at Jisung one last time,
"Jisung just remember, that you will never find someone who will love you! you deaf fuck! you are an ugly, lying, selfish, ass, who only cares about himself, you bitch!
slam
the door shut so loudly Jisung flinched.
by now all the surrounding neighbours were peeking out their windows to see what was going on, Jisung looked at them all with teary eyes, they all avoided eye contact and closed their doors and shutters, no one wanting to offer help.
he was alone out there, and by now the sun was setting.
"why," he muttered , "I loved you Agma! what did I do?" "I'm sorry for being imperfect. please let me stay," he begged under his breath, trying to keep his breathing steady enough to stand straight.
small echoes of foot steps came from a distance, he put his head down and let the tears fall as he turned a corner and saw someone sprinting the other direction.
away from him…
The darkness of night encased him, swallowing him like it was the easiest thing in the universe.
at least he could hear this time.
The starry sky shone bright in Jisung's watery eyes. the sparkling tears running down his cheeks and spilling into the concrete ground, he'd settled in a park near his university.
his eyes were puffy and wet, endless oceans of tears running down his face, never slowing for even a second.
he had classes tomorrow. he couldn't be seen like this in the morning, he'd just have to skip for the day.
he was too blue bruised to show up anyways, and he had bigger things to figure out.
he had no home, job, family that lived near by, and no car to get around
his friend Chan had all that, minus the family part, they were in Australia. he had his shit together.
Chan…..
he goes to the same university as me….
i could call Chan for help.
He glanced at his almost dead phone, the time read 2:36 am
too early in the morning to call now…
he felt more tears fall onto his lap, sobs ripped through him, he couldn't help it. he felt like he'd just died and was for some reason still walking on rotting legs, flesh falling as he hiccupped, words of hate for his ex.
Jisung was feeling a little too familiar with the ground as he once again collapsed and smashed onto the cold, hard concrete floor.
knees to chest, arms rapped around legs, head under his hands. that was how Jisung spent his night. sobbing in the cold night in nothing but a wool sweater, a toque (Beanie for my non-Canadian readers), and a pair of jeans; never sleeping that night.
The sun was rising when Jisung finally looked up from his ball of sorrow.
no one was outside yet (thankfully) but the lights in some of the nearby dorm buildings were on.
Jisung stood up from his spot on the ground, his pants legs wet from tears, the wind blowing making the wet spots cold to the touch.
he sniffed, snot running from his nose, hot tears dripping in an almost mocking way
I'm such a mess
the early morning sun shone in his face .
he looked around for somewhere to take refuge until it was late enough into the morning that he could call Chan and ask for help, the clock on Jisung's phone read 7:58 am
he could probably call right now but didn't want to bother Chan when he probably getting ready for classes, it would mess with the routine he had and he didn't want to do that, even though Chan probably wouldn't mind to much given the situation.
he spotted a nearby public washroom and ran for it, if he was going to call Chan soon he wanted to look at least decent. at the moment Jisung looked like he had walked through a battle field and back while being hit so many times he almost didn't make it all the way the second time then didn't get any sleep because of what he saw.
I was honestly close enough to what he was going through though.
walking to that washroom felt like hell, his body ached from the hits he'd taken the day prior.
feet dragging on the ground, scuffing up his converse.
the door felt unusually heavy, but the lack of sleep might be the reason for that, the mirror above the line of sinks didn't show the neat,pretty man Jisung usually was, instead he was replaced by a tired, tear stained face that sported a black eye and dark eye bags on the untouched eye. his hair was ruffled and messy, no longer neatly parted down the middle. the sweater was sliding off his shoulder revealing a bruised shoulder that no amount of makeup could cover.
he hated what he saw with all of his dead soul. all of his life had left when he started dating Agma… he realized that now…. how could he not see that Agma was so terrible….
why did the universe hate him? what did he do to deserve such a life like this?
tears started to flow once again realizing what was in front of him all along.
"I'm so pathetic" Jisung whispered, almost not hearing himself.
he felt like he was going to throw up anything left in his stomach, but there was nothing, not a single crumb of food was left in his yowling belly.
He turned on the sink, warm water splashing out the spout gently, pouring onto Jisung's hands.
he splashed the water onto his face, washing off the left over makeup that he'd put on the day before, though most of it had been cried off.
he was almost fully awake by the time he had dried off his face with a spare shirt in his small backpack of belongings
he checked his phone one more time. this time it read 8:13 am.
how have I spent fifteen minutes in here?
Jisung unlocked his phone and clicked on one of the few contacts waiting. the photo that looked back at him when he tapped on the name that said 'Channi" was a goofy one of them both sticking out their tongues and stretching their mouths with their hands.
he loved that picture even more now than ever because it was taken before he knew Agma.
why the fuck wont he leave my mind!?!
Jisung started to tear up again at the thought of Agma but it was to late now that he had pressed call and Chan actually picked up despite the closeness to the time he should be in his first class of the day.
"morning sungi! I have to make this quick because I have class soon. will you be there today?" Chan sounded cheerful; Jisung almost felt too guilty to ruin his mood.
"morning Channi" Jisung croaked, his voice gone horse from crying.
"sung? are you okay?" Chan asked sounding worried.
Jisung started crying again.
"no…. Chan, Agma broke up with me and kicked me out, and I had to stay out in the park last night and.. and…." Jisung words burned, caught in his throat about why they broke up, about the abuse, the torture he went through on a daily basis. the lack of love that was obvious to anyone that wasn't Jisung.
"where are you," Chan asked, he sounded like he was going to kill someone. actually? he might.
"the park bathroom," Jisung sobbed into the phone.
"I'll be there in ten minutes."
The line dropped, jisung just stood there, not wanting to move until the older man was there.
seven minutes later Chan appeared at the door looking especially murderous , a glint in his eyes and hair dishevelled like he had just sprinted through a wind storm to get to the park.
his face twisting when he caught a glimpse of Jisung's face, bruised and tear streaked, eyes watery and red.
"I'm gonna kill him." Chan growled, hands balling up into fists.
Jisung just stood there trying to fight the new wave of tears that were trying to make it past the flood gates of his eyes. one slipping and sliding slowly down his face.
"come here," Chan murmured softly, anger being compressed as he took a good look at the teary boy in front of him. Jisung just nodded his head and tried to not cry, knowing if he broke here and now, Chan would march to Agma's house and kill him with no remorse or second thoughts.
Chan closed the distance between them and held a teary Jisung there in a tight embrace in he bathroom, whispering that it would be okay and running a hand through his long,messy hair that peeked out of his hat, the attempt of taming the mess was to no avail as it sprang back up after the night spent outside on the park ground sobbing into his legs.
Jisung flinched as Chan's hand came dangerously close to his hearing aids, a full body flinch that shook him off balance for half a second.
"what?"
oh shit
"why did you flinch? what did he do to you?" Chan asked, anger coming in a fresh wave.
he couldn't breathe, the secret that he'd been keeping from everyone he knew had come out to one person, the person he thought he loved. but the reaction that had come after was what he'd always feared if anyone else knew.
anger, abuse, words that cracked a part of his porcelain lined heart, grounding it up and throwing it out for him to only be able to watch helplessly from that damn shelf.
so.. he lied
well not really… but also it wasn't the truth. so… part lie.
"Chan," he murmured against the mans shirt.
"h-he… ," he hiccuped pulling away from the warm embrace to show the fresh bruises on his collar, and hiking up his pant to show his legs, he turned to show his sides and back then lifted his sleeves to show the red marks and cuts on his wrists and showing his chopped up hands. then finally he pulled off his toque (beanie) to show the chunks of hair that had been ripped from his scalp.
that sealed the deal in Chan's eyes.
death would be painfully and brutal, no mercy given.
that devil man wouldn't see the next days sunshine if he had any say in it.
by the end of the day agma would wish for death to come faster.
the car ride was quiet except for the sniffs coming from Jisung in the back seat . he didn't even remember getting into the vehicle, but here he was, curled up on Chan's leather seats.
"where are we going?" he sniffled
"I'm getting something into your stomach." Chan answered softly, a white knuckle grip on the steering wheel.
he didn't argue because honestly, he was starving.
crying had emptied his stomach almost completely. the thought of food got Agma's words off his mind for the time being.
the idea of Chan getting him food was like he'd picked up the broken doll and glued a crack or found one of the broken pieces.
"okay," Jisung replied hoarsely, holding back more tears, as if Chan would yell at him like Agma had just yesterday. the scars from the devil man would never fade. the cracks on his fine glass skin never to leave, never to be glued by a loved one, never to be healed or fixed, never would he ever trust someone like he trusted Agma again.
NEVER…..
A coffee shop stood in front of him, bathing him in the lovely cool of shade from the early morning sun.
A sign on the door read 'NEW!! now serving breakfast.'
"d'you want a coffee sung?" Chan asked glancing back from the door of the car.
"can I come in? I want to look at the menu. I kinda want some food."
Chan sighed,"yea sure if you're okay for a few minutes in there."
truthfully, Jisung didn't know why he asked to go in. he didn't want to, he didn't care what the elder got him for food, and Chan knew his coffee order from heart. so there really wasn't any reason to go in. but it felt like he needed to.
as he stepped outside he felt the cool of the air hit his damp face, the shop looked almost cute, it being so small, it was a relatively new building, the ground still littered with left over gravel, the windows shiny and freshly in place.
the door was made from glass sheets with a metal frame and a long handle stretching horizontally across the front.
he could see into the shop, a barista setting up a stack of cups near the coffee machine.
as he and Chan walked into the shop, pushing the door, a little bell went off behind them. the little chime echoing through the shop.
the man behind the counter turned to face them, smiling a bright shiny smile that lit up the room almost instantly.
"good morning sirs, what could I help you with?"
"can I have two iced coffees and two sweet potato sandwiches please?"
jisung spotted a table in the corner and sat down.
"will that be all?" the man asked.
"yeah,"Chan responded, sitting down across from Jisung in the corner.
Jisung didn't notice Chan beside him, he was too busy studying the man behind the counter.
he had full hair, parted down the middle with a sharp nose and jaw, cat eyes stared down, pointed to the cup he was holding. his waist was shrunk down because of his apron.
he was humming a song Jisung didn't recognize. smiling while constructing the coffees.
Jisung felt too guilty to look at him any longer, he and Agma had only just broken up after all, even if Jisung had cried all his tears because of him, wrecked his skin because of him, cut, bruised, burned,slammed, beaten and stepped over himself… he loved Agma still….right?
he didn't know.. he barely even knew before they broke up .
come to think of it, he would live days in constant fear of the man he lived with, he never made it out of a day without being hit, jabbed, punched, burned, bitten, or hair pulled,or ripped out. Jisung could hardly even remember the last time they even kissed each other.
any physical affection was initiated by Jisung…
did I ever love him?
the reflection was revolutionary.
did he love Agma? did Agma even love him? he gave up on him so easily… like he was looking for an opportunity to go at the first sight of imperfection…
"sung?"
a voice shoots Jisung from his trance of overthinking.
he looks up, it was Chan, holding two iced coffees and two sandwiches
"you okay?" he sounds concerned.
Jisung looks down, feeling sorry for overthinking in front of him.
"what am I saying? of course you're not. come on, I got you your food It's time to go back to the dorm." Chan sighed.
Jisung stood up, chair screeching behind him as his legs pushed it backwards, staying silent the whole way outside.
glaring at the gravel on the ground, he came to the conclusion that Agma was a waste of time and energy to think of.
before he knew it he was halfway to the dorms with his knees up to his chest his head buried again into his hands.
because honestly?
the reason he was still alive was Agma… and now he didn't have him.
even though he didn't help with his problem of constantly hurting himself he was an anchor to the living side of the circle….
for some reason.
and now…. he was gone…
"did I really love you?" he muttered to himself, silent to unwanted ears.
he sat in Chan's room, tears spilling like a never ending waterfall of emotions.
the face of the man from the coffee shop flashed into his mind. his smile, soft cat like eyes drawing him in, the soft humming he did when he made Jisung's coffee. the mystery song popped into his head. a soft rhythm, easy to follow, beautifully flowing from his lips.
his synched waist in the apron made him smile.
a sudden realization popped into his head, he looked oddly familiar, so, so, familiar…
he went into his memory, and there, tucked into the horrible day he'd had, was the man. not a significant time of day, really.
it was the end of the day, the man, two rows in front of him, had spaced out during one of the professor's rambles about something no one was listening to. something bland no one cared about. jisung was half sleeping, probably actually falling asleep a few times. the man turned around for a second, jisung barely noticed. he smiled at jisung, and turned back to face forward in his chair.
"MINHO!" the professor had shouted, "ARE YOU EVEN PAYING ATTENTION TO ME!?""
jisung jumped at the sudden volume from the teacher.
"ARE YOU EVEN PAYING ATTENTION TO ME?!"
"y-yeah?" the man sat up, clearly flustered.
"WHAT DID I SAY THEN?" the professor boomed.
the man muttered something and sank into his own mind, probably trying to come up with an answer.
"this is why you pay attention, everyone! you'll end up missing what I say!"
the man, Minho turned bright red, sinking into his seat.
RIIIING!
the bell rang, jisung rushed out to meet with his friend, Seungmin , who was waiting outside the door to the room, leaning on the door frame.
he immediately caught jisung and looped him into a conversation about a boy he had a crush on, when the man from class tripped on air and stumbled forward.
Jisung laughed at the time, Seungmin laughed to, and they went back to their conversation, Seungmin describing in great detail how the guy looked, but in the back round, the man stared at him, almost studying him. like some specimen. like he was looking at something. the gaze pointed at his lower arm, near his hands. Jisung didn't look back, but he could sense his eyes on him
Jisung played with the memory, he'd vaguely remember remembered the barista's name, but what was he looking at?
he glanced down at his wrists, fresh cuts carved just seconds ago looking back. the older cuts under them peeked behind the new, and Jisung realized just what the barista was looking at…
🐰
the professor dragged the lecture too long, in his opinion. speaking in that stupid monotone voice that everyone hatted, motioning with his hands with large circles in the air and twirls with his fingers, almost- no, definitely , to much for a man of the ripe age of 41.
he was talking about a story that happened to him, staying professional but teetering to off topic.
the man looked at a boy behind him, he looked like he was going to fall asleep, leaning on his hand, and nodding off slightly. the man smiled, he couldn't help it, he was cute when he was tired.
he turned back around. his mind drifted to when he could finally leave this cold, dusty, smelly room.
he was just waiting to go back to his dorm and hang out with his friends.
"MINHO!"
The professor's voice jolted him out of his thoughts.
"ARE YOU EVEN PAYING ATTENTION TO ME?!"
"y-yeah?" he answered wanting to sink into the floor.
"WHAT DID I SAY THEN?" the professor boomed.
"u-um…"
what did he say? something about his kids maybe? ex wife? his days in school? SOMETHING?
"this is why you pay attention, everyone! you'll end up missing what I say!"
Minho could feel hid face get hot as everyone looked at him with eyes full of pity.
wonderful.
RIIIING!
FINALLY.
his black backpack was sitting on the floor zipped up and mostly empty except for a few books and a pencil case.
he almost fell off the chair grabbing it from the floor, hoisting it from the ground onto his shoulders.
he rushed out, embarrassingly tripping on his own feet In front of the cute boy that was half asleep, from class. he was pretty sure had a boyfriend but still had a crush on him. he giggled as he stumbled, covering his mouth and turning to face his friend he was just talking to.
humiliating.
he had a sweater and a toque (beanie), fluffy hair that curled at the ends, adorable doe eyes that seemed to hold the universe itself. he was like a white feather, elegant, angelic, beautiful.
upon closer inspection (literally just staring at him and fawning over his beauty), he noticed the boy had bruises on his hands and fingers, long cuts on his wrists slipping out when he adjusting his bag on his back.
Interesting…
"come on Minho! just go this one time!" Hyunjin pestered.
"I have work today I'm sorry," Minho sighed.
"but you never come!" Felix half shouted.
"that's because I have work whenever you want me to come!" shot Minho.
"well maybe you should schedule work on a different day then," Jeongin piped.
"that's not how it works with my boss, Innie," Minho replied turning to the younger.
"you're so boring when we want to get something going for you," Changbin retorted.
Minho ran his fingers through his hair, his friends always wanted to take him to a bar. his lack of a girlfriend or social life outside of his small circle was apparently a problem that they were 'kind enough to help with,' in their words.
in Minho's words, they were doing too much to solve this 'problem' he had. he was doing fine on his own in fact. just waiting for the right person was what he wanted to do for now, but apparently that was the wrong thing to do in his friend's opinion.
"you just sit in your dorm half the time and look at your phone anyway though! come on! call in sick and go out with us Minho!" Felix nagged, poking his finger at Minho's cold hands.
they were outside the dorm buildings and the wind was blowing in cold gusts, each of the five men present had pink noses and gloved hands, Felix was wearing a jacket to shield from the cold, still not used to the chill of the weather, a full turn around from the warmth of Australia, where he was from.
"no, not this time, okay? I'll come next time." Minho promised.
"you said that last time!" Jeongin pointed out.
"next time!" he called walking into the dorm building to get Changed into his work clothes.
the dorm lobby was bland. mostly a long hallway and some stairs in the middle of the hall. then a door to a lounge that Minho has never had the need to use.
white overhead lights blinded his eyes as he entered, gray walls reflecting bright light, into any unfortunate soul that walked inside without bracing their eyes before hand.
as he hiked the long stairwell up to the fifth floor, he ran into a man, around his height hurrying downstairs, Minho recognized him, Chan, the music major. holding a folder of sheet music.
Minho paid little attention to him, barely even noticing him half the time. he knew that the boy from his class he had a crush on was friends with him, he knew he was sweet and kind because of how word spreads of parties he's gone to and now he treated the girls there. how he'd offered people rides because they were too drunk to drive. just overall how he was a great person.
remembering that he thought to himself,
its good that he's that boy's friend, he probably deserves a friend like that.
he fumbled with his keys trying to unlock the door, fidgeting with the two keys on the ring until he got the right one.
his work pants where were laid on his bed waiting for him to put them on.
his work clothes weren't that different from his normal dress, just the pants needed to be Changed out of, really. but he liked to start his shifts with fresh clothes anyways.
according to his boss jeans where 'too hillbilly for a coffee shop of such importance,' they just opened so, really the only importance they had was the to students at the university who where hungry and wanted a cheap coffee and some food.
he kicked his shoes off to the side, banging against the wall with a faint thud. finding the button up shirt and black pants laying in waiting on his bed.
he stripped off his shirt grabbing at the new one on the bed, when his phone dinged with a text, from his coworker. it read:
hey Minho! soooo funny story, I'm about to break up with my boyfriend so I was wondering if you could take the morning shift for me:) ?
"sure, the night shift and the morning shift? wonderful. I'll just not sleep at all and also skip my morning classes, why not ask the only other student that you work with! that's a good idea!" Minho muttered, pissed that he decided to ask him and not the girl that they work with.
but of course he didn't say no, instead he said:
of course I'll take the morning shift for you! get better Agma! I hope you're okay!
"stupid fuck, that was probably the only guy that would love you," Minho grunted, sliding his pants on and grabbing his keys to his works door.
gravel crunched under his feet, sounds of crickets chirping echoed off the streets like a symphony of nature.
the sounds were abruptly destroyed by a close by yelling a few streets over. the words were incoherent to the ears it was not meant for. a loud shut of a door echoed off the houses followed by desperate sobs ripping through the street, soft incoherent words muttered from the person crying so passionately, made its way to Minho ears.
making their way closer the person's sobs drew nearer and nearer with every word.
the voice of the person sounded like a man, a very familiar one in fact.though Minho could not pinpoint who that sounded like.
As the whispered words of an unappreciated love and a hate so hot it could start a fire, made their way closer, Minho realized that he had stopped waking. Completely frozen in eves dropping on this vulnerable moment in the mystery person's life.
Shadows of a hunched man drew themselves on the dimly lit sidewalk. slowly making their way closer to Minho, standing there frozen, like a child caught in something he shouldn't have heard said by his parents.
So without a second thought, he ran…
He didn't know why he ran, he just did. Like an invisible force was dragging him by his feet towards his place of work.
When he arrived at the shop he saw his coworker had already left it in a state of locked doors and lights off, so Minho could unlock the door and serve the ghosts of people who arrived in the night.
But no one showed this night, not a soul stepped its way into the lowly building. not even the crying stranger he'd heard.
That man haunted his mind like a ghost in a graveyard, the desperate sounds of sobs etched into his brain like a tattoo, never to be removed or covered up. The voice yelling in the street sounded stupidly familiar, like someone he knew but not well enough to exactly pinpoint who.
The text Agma had sent flashed in his mind.
'I'm going to break up with my boyfriend today'
"No… no that couldn't be his boyfriend… Right?"
Sure Agma was rude, annoying… Sometimes unnecessarily snippy with the costumers… But not cruel like the voice that had shouted the words that had broken the one crying the street like the world had just ended… Right?
Surly it wasn't Agma… Right?
no… couldn't be…
the squeaking of car breaks sounded from outside. Minho turned slightly, the sun was peeking out, forming the sky into a beautiful painting of pinks and orange mixing to a gorgeous ombre of warm colours , he looked down at where he was. he'd froze while organizing cups by the coffee machine, too deep in thought to realize how long he'd been standing there.
he turned to look outside, out stepped from the car, a boy… not just any boy, the boy. the one he had a crush on, the one that had giggled when he'd stumbled the one that had the cuts on his wrists… now looking like he had been through a war and back just to show up at the coffee shop.
he immediately noted the bruises peeking from his sleeved arms, the black eye he bore, the now cut up and purple hands he tried to hide in his pockets, how his hair was no longer fluffy and curled at the ends, finally how his pants where slightly wetter at the knees.
he looked like a feather, ruffled and dirty, floating best it could through the vast expanse of the sky, hoping something would come and make something out of it. whatever happened to it showing more than wanted, scared that no soul would pick it up and place it delicately on a hat to flaunt around the beauty or in a nest of another bird, wanting to give its warmth to whatever would receive it with joy.
He was with another person, Chan, he thought.
Chan displayed a face that looked like he was trying to appear fine, and failing miserably.
Minho turned towards them, smiling when the door's bell rang with that little 'ting!' that he loved.
"good morning sirs, what could I help you with?" Minho asked with a smile he hoped was translated to not seeing the other boys bruises and cut up body.
"can I have two iced coffees and two sweet potato sandwiches please?"
"will that be all?"
Minho's eyes wandered to the boy behind Chan, he'd wandered to the corner of the sitting area and took space in a chair, noticeably spacing off,and fidgeting with his sleeves.
"yeah." Chan responded, sitting in the chair across the beat up boy, sending worried glances at him, that wouldn't be received as the boy fell harder into whatever day dream he was so deep in.
Minho looked down at the cups he had stacked by the coffee machine. grabbing two of them to put ice in, pouring in some coffee and cream then mixing them with a straw, humming a song along the way, just a soft melody he'd made up on a random Tuesday that he couldn't keep off his mind. he grabbed the sandwiches his coworker made before she left last night, waiting in the fridge for the next person.
he turned around, seeing the boy looking in his direction. seemingly too lost in thought to notice Minho looking back. he snickered even though nothing was funny about this situation.
his crush, his crush was looking at him. though he just looked like that was simply the position he'd spaced out in, he let himself live in the delusion that he was checking him out. though, the boy was facing the floor a second ago.
finishing up with the food he called to Chan,
"sir? your food is ready."
"thanks" Chan nodded, making his way towards the counter, and picking up the food and drink, then in long strides, walked back to the spaced out boy at the table.
"Jisung, time to go." Chan said standing in front of the boy,
Jisung…
"sung?" Chan asked in a worried tone.
the boy jerked, looking up at the man, the boy startled by sudden voice speaking to him.
"you okay?"
Jisung looked at his shoes intensely .
"what am I saying? of course you're not. come on I got you your food It's time to go back to the dorm."
'Jisung….'
Minho played with the name he now knew.
Jisung…. Jisung…. Jisung…
it circled in his brain, as he watched the broken boy walk out, glaring the ground the whole way out the door.
"Jisung…"
Minho tested the name in his mouth, it felt right, in a way he couldn't describe… not yet anyways.
he watched the car leave the lot, an odd sense of sadness overtook him watching it pull away with the boy inside it…
like he should have said something while he had the Chance.
like he had missed a shot with a broken boy and, maybe he could fix the ruffled feather that floated into his presence with tear stains and a heart saddened to the point of shattering.
the boy that smiled most days so easily, and walked with the grace only a swan could contain but somehow came to him so naturally, now walked with dragging steps and a saddened pout.
it broke a corner of Minho's heart, shattering it on the floor.
the rest of his shift went on without a hitch, but the image of that boy, Jisung, crossed his mind. how he looked like he was trying to be smaller, how he had tear stained cheeks, how his hair looked like it had been pulled, how his pants had wet spots on them like he had been curled into them just seconds earlier, how he looked slightly dirty, like he had been on the ground for the past few hours.
a sudden thought crossed his mind.
what if Jisung was the one crying on the street last night? what could have happened to him other than what I heard happen?
it made sense, the voice he'd heard from that boy that was crying matched the one he'd heard from Jisung in the past .
Minho stopped making the next costumer's order mid pour, with a dreadful thought.
it had to be him…
I ran from him…
what is he saw me?
he stood there as the hot coffee spilled over his hands, not flinching when it burned at his fingers and palm.
I'm sorry Jisung…
I'm sorry I ran from you…
he sat in his bed that night, unable to sleep with the thought of running from his jisung on the street, he cringed at the thought that he had probably saw him running. he'd felt worse thinking about anything that had to do with the boy, his class yesterday, him coming to Minho's work in shambles, anything.
he thought back to talking to his friends a few days before, they had said that him not having a girlfriend, they had no idea that he didn't even like girls. they had no problem with then possibility of him being gay but he;d never gotten around to telling them, leading them to constantly want to get a date for him, even setting I'm up on blind dated at one point.
but they were always girls, no guys, but he didn't mind, his friend where just trying to help. though, sometimes 'helping' felt more like forcing him to date before he wanted to.
he looked down at his phone, laying flat on his chest, he blinked at it, grabbing it and clicking on the group chat in his text app. he clicked the words so fast he didn't even have time to think about what the hell was he doing right now.
in the bar it read:
guys… I want to tell you something, I'm gay, hope your okay with that, I'm too tired to care right now if your not, so say what you want, I'm going to sleep, goodnight boys :)
it wasn't the best thing to send at midnight, but he didn't care and pressed send.
the response came a few minutes later, from Felix, Minho had to read it through a few times to believe what was on the screen.it wasn't him giving love, it wasn't even hate it was… well…
☀️lixie☀️: first of all, thank you for telling us, second, CHANGBIN, INNIE! you two owe me and hyunjin 20,000 won each ! you lose! ahahahahahahahahahah
the next texts rolled in like bell had rung and they all needed to respond at the same time because of it.
bin: oh come on! Minho why did you have to come out right after we placed a bet last night! come on! you could have come out any other time man!
jinnie: PAAAAAAAY DAAAAY, YAAAAAAAY
child: Minho why!! you couldn't have waited a day or two! or like a month or something!? why do you decide to tell us this the one time I bet against it!? why didn't you say this yesterday when I would been payed?!
apparently they had been placing bets on if he was gay or not each time he didn't come to the bar with them and flipped who would get payed if he came out before the next time they ask him to go.
me: you guys where seriously betting on me?!
child: yes….. but to be fair you never want to go out with us or talk to girls soooo, we HAD to bet on it
jinnie: thanks Minho!! I get paid now!!
bin: SHUT UP HYUNJIN
Minho just stared at the screen, the texts kept coming, some scolding him for not coming out yesterday, Felix asking if he had a crush on any boys, Changbin and Jeongin sulking, Hyunjin celebrating, Minho wanting to scream because he'd finally come out to them.
his stomach turned as everything hit him, he'd done the one thing he'd wanted to do for so long. he'd told them,finally.
an odd sense of pride washed over him, he knew that they would probably be fine with his sexuality but… he was scared, his past haunted him like a ghost that always whispered when he saw a cute boy, the cute boy, specifically.
me: I'm going to bed now guys have fun arguing about this :)
the text line flooded with goodnight messages and one 'don't you dare escape from this' from Changbin.
Minho placed his phone face down on his chest, staring at the ceiling, thoughts never ending in his mind, full of guilt, love, wanting to apologize, and a feeling he couldn't describe properly, it felt like guilt but, stronger…
a single tear slipped down the side of his face, dropping onto his pillow, making a tiny wet spot where the tear fell. he didn't know why he was crying, but it felt right at the moment, just to cry from guilt, he should have done something to help jisung that night, he shouldn't have ran, he should have been a better person, he shouldn't have been such a coward…
Written by a human in Ellipsus.