Secrets // Minsung ✓

Chapter 17

After Jisung left his room and he heard the front door slam shut, Minho rubbed his face in frustration. The moment he stopped, he kept looking at the ceiling for over ten minutes straight. He reached out for his phone—without averting his eyes towards his nightstand—but, unfortunately, he couldn't find it. He then remembered he had probably left it downstairs, so he got up and went downstairs.

As he walked down the stairs, he noticed his father hadn't come home last night. He didn't notice his keys laying around where he usually put them. He entered the kitchen and poured himself a glass of water. Then he searched his phone underneath all of his papers and between his books, until he found it.

He dialled a number on his phone. It was Chan's. The boy on the other line picked up his phone, which was strange since it was only seven in the morning. He sometimes sleeps, he sometimes doesn't—no one knows. "Minho, what's up?" Chan asked him.

"I've got a problem... Please, come over," Minho stated as if it was an emergency, which for him it was.

Minho didn't sound like his usual self. So, Chan did what any friend should do. "I'm on my way," he spoke and dropped what he was doing immediately.

He went over to Minho's house by car. Even though, they only live one block away, it was still morning and he was lazy. He knocked on the front door and Minho opened it, letting Chan into the house.  "Okay, so what's the big crisis,"

Minho kept pacing back and forth. "I— I don't know what to do. I don't know why, but I can't stop thinking about Jisung. I want his image out of my head," he said in frustration. "How do I do that?"

Chan looked at him, preciously. "You can't," He wanted to give Minho a solution, but for as far as he knew, images in one's head can't simply be erased. Thoughts can't be erased so easily. Wacking him on the head with a pan and making sure he lost his memory might do, but he assumed that was out of the question.

"Please Chan, I can't have nerdy roaming around in my thoughts," Minho knew he was asking for the impossible. But he was actually just hoping for an answer from Chan. Any answer.

"Minho... You're smart. You know what's going on," Chan spoke. Even though being smart had little to do with this, Chan thought Minho should use his common sense and think about all of this.

"But— this can't happen," Minho sighed and nestled his hands in his hair, in frustration. He sat down on the sofa and was lost in his thoughts. I'm screwed. He refused to believe any of what had been said or what he was thinking.

Chan knew Minho wasn't oblivious, but he was ignorant. "I think... it happened a very long time ago," he muttered carefully. He didn't want Minho hating him for stating his opinions. After all, it had happened once before—because he had shared his opinion about Minho's hatred towards Jisung.

Minho didn't know what to say. He wanted to deny it, because he didn't believe Chan's words. He didn't think it was true. But then why did he avoid the statement. "Anyway... We got to get to school or we'll be late,"

"Hey, you're the one who called me over this early in the morning," Chan retorted, holding his hands up in defence.

Minho sent his friend a slight glare as he could literally hear the smirk on Chan's face. "You're giving me a ride," he stated and grabbed his jacket. He opened the front door, walked outside and slammed it shut behind him.

Chan just smiled fondly as he looked at his friend's behaviour. He shook his head from left to right as a slight smirk appeared on his face. And so it began.

~~~~~~~~~~

After Jisung left Minho's house, he walked towards his own. He couldn't wrap his head around what had just happened in the span of one single day—twenty-four hours. That wasn't a dream, right? He had seen a soft side to Minho. Well, a softer side.

He ran out of Minho's house so fast that he even forgot his math books, which he felt sad about. It was his favourite subject after all, thus his favourite books as well. Tutoring Minho had one advantage; he had gotten so many books from his teacher. He may be using them for personal gain as well. For example, studying new material they hadn't seen yet. That might just have been the reason why he got the answer to his teacher's question right the previous morning—when he fell asleep during class.

As he kept pondering over a bit of everything, he finally reached his home. He opened the door with his key and walked inside of the house. He put down his bag and went to the kitchen to grab something to eat, most likely cereal. Yet, when he got there he sighed as he rolled his eyes.

Of course, he had to run into his sister the moment he got home. He wished for her to keep her mouth shut, because he was not in the mood. But, his wish was not granted. "Where have you been? Your bed was unslept so I know you didn't come home last night. What did you do? Were you hooking up with some random guy on the streets?" She clearly hadn't learned her lesson and still tried to interrogate Jisung's entire life, as if he was a robot in need of her control. And he was disgusted by her every word. She made it sound as if he was some kind of whore, while he hadn't even dated anyone yet. "If you don't tell me, I'll tell mom you didn't come home last night,"

Jisung sighed. He was used to this kind of behaviour from Jihna, but ever since he had become Minho's tutor it became worse. Especially after she had overheard his and Minho's conversation from the day before—during lunch. "Why do you even care, Jihna? Mind your own damn business," he spoke, not wanting to waste too much oxygen on her bullshit. He turned around, ready to leave the kitchen. His appetite had gone anyway.

"I'll tell mom you hooked up with a boy," Jihna blurted out—with much thought—before Jisung could close the door behind him.

Jisung was slowly getting agitated, again. He took a step inside of the kitchen, glaring towards Jihna. He had promised himself not to let his sister get under his skin, but that was hard when they practically lived under the same roof. He breathed in, and out. A slight smirk appeared on his face. He was absolutely done with this. "Yeah, you do that. And don't forget to mention that his name is Lee Minho," he spat back at her. He practically threw Minho under the bus as well, but why should he care—it's not as if it was true anyway.

"Excuse me?" she scoffed in full offense. She knew she was getting a little paranoid, but for good reason—or so she thought. Yet, she thought wrong. She was actually going crazy. It was as if something inside her snapped.

"You're excused," Jisung had no idea as to how—and why—his sister had become this person. She had become pure evil. He wanted to see the good in her—since she was his family—but he couldn't. It had all disappeared. Sometimes, he thought it was funny just thinking about the relationship they used to have when they were just kids. It all vanished into thin air.

She scoffed once again. That was all she was good at recently. "I can not believe you. You're ruining everything I've worked so hard for," she spoke, a hurt expression plastered on her face.

"Worked so hard for?" Jisung questioned mockingly. He had to say that her acting improved. She even seemed to believe her own lies—and it didn't seem as if she noticed. He needed to put some sense into her. "You're a manipulative snake. You got what you wanted by blackmailing me, and you've grown obsessive. You're so damn obsessed with Minho that you don't even see the damage you're doing to him. You're ruining him as a person and you're ruining your own relationship. Don't give me the blame for your own actions," And with that, Jisung did as he would have done a minute ago. He slammed the kitchen door shut angrily.

He was so infuriated with Jihna—and his anger was only increasing. She also seemed to be caught off guard by Jisung's said words, but she didn't deny any of it. Jisung was at loss for words. He was so angry that he didn't want to face anyone up to this point. Yet, school started in a little less than ten minutes. He wasn't feeling up to it at all, so he did what he had never done before, he left his house—but had never reached the school gates.

[A/N]
I know i have been dead for a while, and the next chapter might take a while too since i forgot where I was heading w this and i dont want it to turn out like total crap

Gotta figure out how I want this to go
Hope y'all dont drop this story although I'd understand if u did

Q: How have you all been?

A: Pfffttt im drainedddd

To be continued ;)