Alone {𝕄𝕀ℕ𝕊𝕌ℕ𝔾}

Chapter Twenty-Two

"PARTY?" JISUNG QUESTIONED, TILTING HIS HEAD AT HIS BEST-FRIEND. FELIX NODDED, HIS lips breaking into a wide grin. "Yeah! My parents are gone for the week, so why not make the most of it? You only live once." Jisung looked at him confusedly, because he'd never pegged Felix to be the party type.

"Uhhh..." the strawberry blonde replied, fully prepared to refuse going, because whether or not Felix was the party type, Jisung most certainly was not. "Please, Sungie?" Felix pulled his puppy-dog eyes, and the older male sighed with a grumble.

"Fine, fine," he replied, shaking his head when his best-friend jumped up with an excited cheer. "Thank you so much! I would've been so alone without you." Jisung snickered, because Felix being cheesy had always been – and always would be – amusing.

A question popped in his mind, and he bit his lip, debating whether or not he should ask his friend. He didn't want to ruin the good mood, but he also had the nagging curiosity and worry egging him on.

"What... what about your brother?" he asked hesitantly, and the smile fell from his lips. Felix shrugged, and turned away without a word. Jisung sighed; maybe he should've just kept his mouth shut.

~#~#~#~#~#~

Jisung stood in front of Felix's house, the booming music causing the porch beneath him to tremble. Ah, what the hell, can't be that bad, he thought, stepping up and pushing open the door. His ears begged to differ, however, and although he'd never thought he'd enjoy the party scene, it was strangely alluring.

Except for the couple sucking each other's faces off on the stairs; ew.

He closed the door behind him and wandered through a thick crowd of people, navigating his way to the kitchen, where he guessed Felix would be. He was right, because there was the blonde, a red party cup in his hand, laughing obnoxiously loudly with a few others Jisung vaguely remembered seeing around school.

Felix's eyes flitted up, and he grinned at Jisung. "Heyyyy Sungie!" he giggled, and Jisung winced, because he was so obviously drunk. Felix picked up a cup from the table behind him and thrust it in his friend's hand, winking mischievously.

The strawberry-blonde stared at it with a frown on his face, and he looked over to the couch from where he stood in the kitchen, and where he and Minho had once kissed, a new couple had taken their place on the couch, all over one another.

His eyebrows furrowed, and he brought the cup to his lips, downing the acidic fluid in one shot. He spluttered slightly, his throat burning; the people around him cheered, and his cup was re-filled almost immediately.

He stared at it again, biting his lip. "You only live once," he shrugged, and besides, if he could distract himself from thinking about Minho, he would; so he downed the second cup.

By the time he'd finished his fourth cup of booze, the effects hit him like a ton of bricks. He began stumbling, losing his balance as his vision began to swim. Along with the physical after-effects of alcohol, he began to feel a crushing weight against his chest.

His throat closed up, and he wobbled out of the kitchen, tears rising in his eyes. He didn't know why he felt so sad; all he knew was that he did. Isn't alcohol supposed to make the pain stop? That's what he'd always believed – what, with the way television portrayed it.

All of a sudden the music made his brain feel like it would burst, and the amount of people made him feel like he was suffocating. He tripped over the couple in the stairs, earning a few irritated glares, but he couldn't care less; he just had to get upstairs, where hopefully it would be quieter. I need to lie down.

He pushed open the door to the first room, and he reeled backwards when he saw something he'd rather not have seen. He closed the door again as quickly as he could, stumbling over to the second door over.

His nose wrinkled in disgust when he saw another couple at it in the bathroom. He crossed the hall and hesitantly pushed open another door, sniffling. There was, in fact, not a couple in that room. A pale light emanated from a small lamp on a desk, and Minho looked up from the textbook he'd been trying to study.

Jisung froze, his eyes wide, and it was like a dam had burst because tears began to flow down his cheeks. The brunet was the first to move, slowly standing up from his desk, and approached the boy.

The blonde snapped out of it and let go of the knob, backing away slowly. "S-Sorry. I... I didn't mean t-to..." His words caught in his throat when Minho grabbed his wrist with a sigh, gently pulling him into the room and shutting the door.

It was slightly quieter in the room than it had been downstairs where many blaring speakers littered the ground, and it soothed him slightly, but the fact that Minho was there too added a new layer of anxiety and remorse.

The older male guided him to the bed and forced him down, draping the blanket over him. "First time drinking, huh?" he chuckled, although Jisung couldn't see the humour in his tone – or the situation.

"Get some sleep," he sighed, and as soon as he started backing away to return to his desk, Jisung's hand shot out and grabbed onto his wrist, causing him to flinch. The fresh bandages rubbed against his hoodie's sleeves, a constant reminder of what he'd done, and the promise he'd broken.

"H-Hyung," Jisung sobbed, and Minho's eyes widened, because never had he imagined that the boy would call him that. He didn't deserve that respect, and he knew it. "I-I'm sorry for ki-issing you," He hiccupped, eyes glassy from the tears that coated them.

Minho sighed and gently pried the boy's hand off of his aching wrist, taking a seat on the edge of the bed, because he hated seeing Jisung cry. I'd much rather you smile, he thought, and wiped away the tears that had already fallen slowly with his hands.

"Did you tell your boyfriend?" he questioned, heart pounding against his ribcage. Jisung's eyebrows furrowed before he shook his head, causing the older's shoulders to slump, defeated. "I-I don't have a boyfriend," he sniffled, and added, as if as an afterthought: "I'm not gay. I-I'm not..." he began to sob again, and Minho's eyes widened. Oh, I get it.

"Okay, Jisung. Now sleep," he ordered softly, getting up and walking back over to his desk. After a few moments, the sniffling quietened, until soft snored echoed throughout the room. I get it now.

A/N: Thank you all so much for 2k+ reads X3

This chapter was supposed to be completely different, but I kinda like how it turned out better.

BTW! Underage drinking is NOT okay. 

Q: Have you ever been to a high school party?

A: Haha  n o p e .

Lots of love,

~Junnie