Alone {𝕄𝕀ℕ𝕊𝕌ℕ𝔾}

Chapter Forty

MINHO WALKED AROUND AIMLESSLY, UNSURE OF WHERE HE WAS HEADED. HE HAD A SPARE THAT period, and most people would head to the library to get some extra studying in, but the brunet had too much on his mind to even bother doing that.

He froze in his tracks when he heard a painfully familiar sound floating through the empty hallway. It was so intricately played, that it made Minho wonder if he ever could've played it like that. I could've, once, he thought bitterly, but he'd long since pushed piano out of his life.

The sound suddenly stopped, and a few girls exited a room a few doors down from where he stood, gushing about how good the girl in the middle was. "I wish I could play piano like that!" One whined, tugging on her friend's sleeve.

Minho cringed slightly, but once they disappeared from sight, he approached the room. It was open just a crack, and he slowly pushed it open, eyes landing on the empty piano bench. He slipped inside, gently closing the door behind him.

He hesitantly approached, stopping a few feet away from the beautiful mahogany instrument.

"You've changed a lot, Minho, and it's not a bad thing."

He took a deep breath and pulled the seat out, settling down, hands hovering over the keys. I can do it, he told himself, exhaling shakily. You can face this now. He didn't want to run away anymore, and if Doyun was right – that he had changed, he'd be able to come back and play the piano whenever he so wished without losing himself.

Unsurely, he lowered his fingers onto the white tiles, beginning a song he'd practiced countless times before. His fingers played the melody, slow and unsteady, his heart beating against his chest.

"What about this one?" Chan questioned, tilting his head as he proposed a new song. The two had been partners for the longest time; the sweet, fluid sound of Minho's piano and Chan's voice were practically intertwined at that point, and they were preparing for an upcoming competition, and they still hadn't managed to find the right song. "It's perfect," Minho breathed, looking up at his best-friend and sharing a toothy grin.

The two high-fived, grins stretching. "In it to win it," the elder said, to which Minho repeated: "In it to win it."

~#~#~#~#~#~

Minho sat alone in his room, knees curled up to his chest, darkness enveloping him. He was supposed to be in a competition right now, but he'd screwed up. Chan hates me, he whimpered. He looked up through bleary eyes, hurrying out of his bed.

On his way out in the hall, he grabbed his brother's baseball bat, and descended into the basement. He stared at his beautiful mahogany piano on the far side of the room, hand tightening around the bat's handle. He approached slowly, standing in front of it, idle, for a few moments.

With a sudden burst of pain, he raised the bat and brought it crashing down on the instrument. His heart cracked, and he let out a loud yell. Again, and again, and again he hit it. Out of nowhere, his movements stopped midair, and the bat slipped from his grasp, clamoring to the ground.

He slowly fell to his knees, burying his face in his hands as he let out another scream. His lungs hurt, and his chest heaved. It was hard to breathe, his throat closed up as he choked out broken sobs. "H-Hyung," Felix stumbled over his words as he hesitantly approached his brother.

He'd just gotten home from his soccer game, and had run to his brother's room to tell him about the 'super-awesome-score-he-did', but was unable to find the older. To find him in the basement in front of a destroyed piano – was shocking.

"Hyung, why did you do this?" But Minho didn't reply. He simply stood up and shrugged his little brother off, walking back up the stairs without so much as a word.

The last note rang out, and he inhaled quickly, his breathing ragged.

Tears welled in his eyes, and he wiped them across his sleeve, a choked sob escaping him. He smiled, sniffling. I did it. He chuckled to himself, feeling his grin widening. "I did it!" he breathed, leaning his forehead against the wooden body of the piano.

He laughed, the sound foreign to even his own ears. It felt nice. He stood, eyes lingering on the piano for a few moments more before he opened the door and quietly slipped out of the room. The hallway was still just as empty as it previously had been, except Minho saw it in a better light.

A small shard of hope had slowly begun to form, and hopefully it would blossom into something more. Hopefully, he really was changing.

~#~#~#~#~#~

Chan stood in front of the high school, hands shoved deep into his pocket. He shifted his weight from foot to foot nervously, biting his lip. He'd never regretted anything more than what he'd done to Minho. It had weighed on his conscience ever since, and he had been such a coward. Hell, he still was.

The bell rang, signaling the end of the school day. His nerves got even more frantic, and he felt a lump form in his throat. What would he even say? That he was sorry? He scoffed, shaking his head. How could he even begin to apologize for something like that?

You can't, he thought bitterly, squeezing his eyes shut. It wasn't even about Doyun anymore; he had served as the necessary nudge Chan needed to clean up his mess. It had been pushed off for far too long; he'd always said, tomorrow. Tomorrow I'll find him. Until one day, before he even knew it, he was flying back to Australia to pursue university, goal unattained.

He'd always reasoned that it hadn't affected Minho that much, and it had never even occurred to him that the friend Doyun constantly worried about because of certain problems was Minho. Chan had never felt more awful in the entirety of his life.

No words can fix what I've done, but he had to try; he had to find a way. He'd already let Minho down once; he didn't want to do it again.

He looked up, and his breath hitched when he saw the brunet walking down the courtyard, head kept low. It was obvious that he was trying to avoid as much attention as he possibly could, and Chan could feel tears forming in his eyes just by looking at him.

He exhaled shakily and turned on his heels, pulling up his hood. I can't do this. Not today.

A/N: 12k! UWU

I'm gonna die when I go back to school these updates are legit the highlights of my day ;-; I'll probably have to return to my normal writing schedule in a few days at most uGHHHHH

Q: What's your favourite type of piercing? (courtesy of OCT0617 )

A: Well, on me I just love cartilage piercings, especially on the outer shell (helix I believe it is called), but even though I'd personally never get one, lip piercings are so frickin attractive like w o a h . 

Lots of love,

~Junnie