Help || Hwang Hyunjin

SIXTEEN

[Two years back:]

Hyunjin was walking back home, his body physically present on the road while his mind wandered like it always would. He dreamed about all the things that could be pursued with just the simple idea of passion and dedication. He thought of his entire concept of dancing as a mesmerizing ocean where he kept diving deep to find his treasure trove.

He enjoyed having these small sessions with Minho every now and then. It was a chance for him to learn something new from a friend who similarly aspired to create a big name in the field of dance.

The lost boy, involuntarily started moving his body to the rhythm of the song that rung in his head.

He was thoroughly involved. There was absolutely nothing that disturbed him while he put his heart and soul into what he truly wanted.

It pained him to see the sight of his home. He wished to run back to Minho and hug him and plead him to continue with the dance session till his legs couldn't keep up with him anymore but Minho had his own life too.

Jeongin? Maybe he would want to dance too. But almost instantly, the option was ruled out when his curious eyes, swiftly landed on a pair of shoes that were completely foreign to him, right by the door step.

He dreaded at the thought of having to politely greet the unknown human but preferred it over being nagged at by his mother for not being present when there was a guest at home.

That thought nearly pushed him physically inside the house when he saw something he had not expected.

His father sat on the sofa, with his head in his hands. Hyunjin was utterly shocked at all that surrounded him.

He could see documents of all sorts scattered and suitcases lying around. The sight completely bewildered him.

"Dad?" he asked, not catching up with the current happenings.

Mr. Hwang's attention was caught only then. He was so overwhelmed that he had not even noticed his son till he called out to him.

"Ye-yeah?" he weakly said, in attempts of getting back to the materialistic world around him.

"Did I escape a hurricane?" he asked, seeing how everything had gone astray.

Hyunjin could hear his dad's smile scream the term "fake" loud enough to rip his ears off him.

"Where's mom?" he asked, learning that the attempts of getting explanations from his dad were simple futile.

"Ah, you don't worry about her," he suddenly perked up, "she isn't here right now. She'll be back in some time."

"Why is her phone there?" Hyunjin immediately shot back, pointing at the mistreated cell phone, lying on one corner of the messy sofa.

He didn't reply to that. He was frustrated and didn't want to see people at that time. He wanted to be alone; he wanted to cope up with everything that had so suddenly strewn his mind in a way that it was not able to even function to its highest capacity.

Hyunjin quietly went upstairs, ignoring his dad's commands to halt on the stairs and not go.

He felt like an arrow had straight away pierced his heart and had managed to even protrude from his back when he heard whimpers escape the room. They were his mom's.

He was old enough and smart enough to process the situation and identify exactly what was going on. 

He instantly regretted not listening to his father. It affected him more than he thought it would. It felt like a brick was thrown at his head. The numbing steadily took over him.