④⑨ The Passenger Side

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"The fresh air is good for you."

Jeongin shook his head, letting the muscles in his neck relax as his gaze dropped to his shoelaces, "I want to go home."

The crew, minus Changbin who mentioned someone needed to look over the shop, dragged the younger along the city sidewalks past windowed builsings and restaurants. A 'day out', they called it, after spending his days alone in his room thinking. A chance to reset. As fun as it had sounded to the others, the umbrella that balanced above their heads that offered minimal protection to all four of them offered otherwise. He had the slight suspicion it was the same umbrella that his parents kept under their bed, but was never able to confirm if it was or not. Even with the angle he had on it, out from under the shield and soaking in the gentle rain with the general chill seeping into his bones, Jeongin wasn't sure if he wanted to know.

"You can't go home," Jisung swiftly reiterated as he flipped to walk backwards, arm looping with Minho's next to him so he didn't go off-kilter and run into any lamp posts. He went on with weary steps behind, "It was nice having the place to ourselves for a bit but now your parents are back. Remember? We gotta do the sneaky sneaky."

The umbrella shook as it's holder, Hyunjin, sighed, "Why do you have to say it like that?"

"I want to explain but Changbin said I can't swear anymore," Jisung complained to the other crew members, earning a soft snort from one and a click of the tongue from the other. Jeongin didn't care enough to note who did what, but he didn't need to either.

"Burn him."

"I was thinking that too."

"We steal a match, and light his car's engine on fire."

"Nah. Did that last time. We need to get creative with our crimes. I'm not commiting the same felonies unless we do it in style."

Hyunjin nodded a quick agreement as Jisung hopped back around, the former already listing off plans of how to commit crime 'in style' as was implied earlier while his partner in crime added fine tuning. The perfect plans, flawless, without a doubt, they would never be caught. In their idealistic world, it would be impossible.

Jeongin let his lethargic steps slow to a stop. Unnoticed to the crew who continued to march along the sidewalks without a worry, his eyes drifted to a building next to him. Windows, but with the darkness of the sky behind, it mirrored the world around Jeongin without divine choice in the matter. He turned to the reflection, sliding carefully over to the makeshift mirror to gape at the stranger staring back at him. If only this stranger could be told to look away. If only. That stranger appeared as a wreck; this sorry state of frayed feathers and a tattered voice, fearful eyes flickering at any shadow that may go bump in the night, this animal in pain but never knowing why.

If that stranger really was him, and no one else...

His lips pressed into a thin line as he carefully stepped away, head turning to the side to lead him back to the other crew members. That pit of dread every time he tried to acknowledge the devastation in that work of deliberately sculpted art he managed to tear down, grew. Although he could apologize to his friends, or the crew, even his parents, he couldn't bring himself to apologize to the stranger with red hair. Much less, let the stranger on the other side forgive him.

Gingerly, Jeongin scoffed. He wanted to move to join the others once again, yet his feet didn't move forward. Instead, he drifted back to the reflection in the window.

Nothing changed. In the two, maybe less, seconds he looked away, nothing changed. It was to be expected. He, not the stranger, could change in the blind of an eye. The world didn't work in that way, no matter how much he might have wished.

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