cherry club 🍒 minsung

sixteen

[ watermelon sugar high ]

Changbin wanted to plunge a needle through Chan's carotid artery. He wanted to watch him bleed out on the hospital floor while the nurses watched because they knew he deserved it. Chan should have known better, Changbin thought as he glared at the man sitting pitifully by Felix's bed. He knew Felix's fragility, Changbin told him everything. Chan almost killed Felix, and Changbin would never forget. Felix held the knife, but Chan dug the blade into his skin with each word he wrote. 

"I was wrong," Changbin spoke up from the couch shoved in the corner. Chan briefly let go of Felix's limp hand to send Changbin a confused frown. "You're not trustworthy. You did what I feared, and I'll never forgive you for that."

Chan scoffed. "What did I do this time, Dad? Seeing as I'm the disappointment in this family." 

"You're fucking with me, right?" Changbin deadpanned. "You nearly killed my boyfriend!"

"He's not your boyfriend!" Chan seethed, dropping Felix's hand to approach Changbin. 

He didn't flinch, hardly even blinked. Chan was too soft to deliver the punch he wanted to, no matter how much rage flowed through his bones and made his fingers twitch. Changbin returned his stare with an indignant huff. 

"He's neither of ours anymore. You don't deserve him, and I let him go. If you love him, Chan, you'll let him heal without us, without anymore heartache. He deserves that much from you." 

The anger spilled from Chan's rigid spine like a shower, and he sagged into his hoodie. He looked small, even though he had at least three inches on Changbin. He sank into the couch beside Changbin, eyes trained at the ceiling and hands lying on his spread thighs.

"You're right," he admitted quietly, as if the truth would burn his last shrivel of dignity. "I shouldn't have said that. Jisung warned me. He said this would happen, and I-" Chan buried his head in his hands. "I ignored him. And now Felix is in the hospital, and Jisung is traumatized." 

"That's alright, Channie." Jisung leaned against the wall with a teasing smile, but his eyes were tired. Minho stood behind him, one hand scratching Jisung's back under his heavy sweatshirt. The dancer's attention never wavered from the curve of Jisung's spine, unknowingly avoiding the final piece of evidence. Jisung could have lied. The blood may have been his; he was the clumsiest in the friend group after all. Felix could be at work, with his phone hidden deep in his book bag so no one would steal it. If he looked, he couldn't deny it. So Minho didn't look. He followed the comforting movement of his fingertips and hid his face in Jisung's back. 

"Jisung, I'm so sorry." 

Jisung waved away Chan's apology and reached around to pull Minho's hips flush against his own. It was a strange backward hug, but Minho relaxed nonetheless, sighing softly. 

"You should save your apologies for the people who need them." Jisung subtly gestured to the kitten latched onto his back, and Chan nodded. "I'm sorry I didn't try harder to stop you. It could have saved us a lot of trouble."

Chan furrowed his brows. "It's not your fault, Sung, no matter how we twist it." 

Jisung chuckled, empty. "I know it's not. It's yours. You've been reckless since you signed your life away to JYP, and it's fucked everyone up. Chan, I love music. I can sincerely stand here and say that it's saved me. But it's breaking me apart to see the music I love destroying my life. I won't choose between music and Minho, and JYP is forcing me too. I'm sorry, but I can't do this anymore."