NOSTALGIA. － p.sh + k.hj

- 02

their house was small, their rooms cold and barren. when hongjoong was younger, he and his brother would have to sit and wait for past six hours in the decrepit car of their parents in a grim road, waiting until their mother would close shop and their father locked everything up. they'd sit and wait, in silence, whether there was a storm and they shivered or there was a suffocating heat and they grew drowsy. they'd wait and grow frustrated － fight, kick, shout － but they'd sit until it was time to go home, never leaving the car.

hongjoong hated that car. the seats had yellow foam pouring out from some holes and the space in which they could move was minimal. it was always full of bugs, which hongjoong despised, but when his brother was by his side, he'd get rid of them for him.

when they were old enough to stay home alone, his brother twelve and him nine, they'd be left with a bitter tasting blown kiss and a call of goodbye. they'd do their work in the growing darkness of the living room, and every now and again his brother would invent something for them to eat.

once they'd gotten tired and the clock was nearing ten, hongjoong would go to the bedroom they shared and shut the door, taking his most prized possession from the drawer of his bedside table: an mp3 player. it was no bigger than two inches, with buttons that were stiff and a screen that lit up green and blue. he'd let it play music until his parents returned, gazing up at the white painted ceiling and chatting with the tiny spider that lived in the corner of it.

the door opening and slamming shut, nights mostly went by with screams and yells, chairs being turned over and plates being tossed.

hongjoong's every limb would quiver and his brother would hold him close.

"do mum and dad love each other?"

his brother never replied
and there wasn't you.

》》》

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