for you page × chensung

five

[ do you really love her? or is society saying you have to. ]

Jisung fiddled with the letter in his hands, the worn paper rough against his palms. The note held the last personal connection to Jisung's birth parents, a messy jumble of letters and an address in the top left corner. He's kept it for nearly six years in a spot under his bed where Jaemin couldn't find it. Jaemin pretended to be indifferent towards Jisung's parents, but he harbored ill feelings, and Jisung knew he wouldn't be happy about his decision. His phone was dinging on the coffee table, a few messages from his co-workers and a picture from Renjun's mom. The child was sitting cross-legged outside the studio, a pout on his face and arms crossed. The picture came with a message that said: Renjun won't go in without his big brother Jisungie! Jisung responded with a laughing emoji and dialed Chenle's number.

They last saw each other a week ago, and Jisung's been toying with the idea of contacting his parents since. It felt right for Chenle to know his choice, even though they texted every day, and he probably already did.

"Hey, Sungie! Call to say sorry to Renjun?" Chenle giggled, and Renjun yelled in the foreground. Chenle screeched, and the phone slammed against the ground. Jisung heard the tussle between brothers and wondered when Jaemin would be home from his date.

"Jisung!" Renjun panted into the receiver. "Where were you? I missed you."

"Sorry, Renjunnie," Jisung cooed.

"Please come back next week, Mr. Jisung! No offense, but Mr. Ten sucks." Renjun whispered, and Jisung laughed so hard his knee slammed against the coffee table. Ten wasn't known for being good with kids. He was unapologetically blunt and strict, but dancing was his life.

There was shuffling again, and Chenle regained control of his device. "He loves you. It's disgustingly cute."

"I'm going to see my parents," Jisung blurted, his nervous energy reaching a boiling point. Chenle's gentle breathing drifted through the speaker, and Jisung's foot stopped tapping. He inhaled, feeling the air in his lungs, and spoke again, slower. "I want to see my parents. You were right. I need closure."

"That's great, Ji. Did you tell Jaemin yet?"

"No, he's out with Jeno. I-"

The front door opened, and Jeno tumbled through, arms filled with shopping bags. They were from Victoria's Secret (Jaemin, what the fuck), HotTopic, and was that Wal-mart?

"I gotta go. Jaemin's home."

"Good luck. We still on for next week?"

"Of course."

Chenle hung up, and Jisung put his phone back on the coffee table. Jaemin strutted through the door like a Beverly Hills diva with two Starbucks cups in his hands. He handed one to Jisung, and he sipped at the liquid adrenaline gratefully. Truthfully, he hadn't gotten much sleep, if any, last night, and it showed. His eye bags were deep, and he had a nervous twitch that made him look like a rabbit.

Jeno plopped the bags on the living room floor and collapsed onto the couch, feet falling into Jisung's lap. He shoved them off, and Jaemin sat where Jeno's legs were. The sofa was hardly long enough for Jaemin and Jisung, but somehow they managed to make the two-seater comfortable for the three of them. The letter in Jisung's hand crumpled with each movement. It was now or never, literally. He would chicken out if he didn't say it, and with Jeno around to mediate, it was the perfect opportunity.

"I want to see my parents."

Jeno and Jaemin's playfully bantered stopped. Jeno's jaw dropped, and Jaemin's eyes softened. Wait. What? Something was very horribly wrong with his brother. The anger Jisung expected wasn't there, replaced by an expression of acceptance.

Jaemin patted Jisung's thigh and shook his head. "I knew you would want to eventually. But they're not who you think they are, Jisung."

"I know they have drug issues, Jaem. I lived through it! I'm older now. I need to see that they're okay."

Jaemin pursed his lips. "That's the problem. They are okay. I've known you for years, Jisung. Trust me when I say it's best if you don't go."

"I can handle drug addicts," Jisung assured him, and Jaemin shook his head again. "Please. I can't go by myself."

Jisung bought a bouquet before they left, and the trio piled into Jaemin's Ford. His parents lived about twenty minutes away, in a suburban neighborhood on the outskirts of Seoul. The address on the letter was almost four years old and wrong. Jaemin kept in touch with them through Facebook, but only for special occasions, like Jisung's birthday and Christmas, and scrolled far enough to find their new address. His parents got married, officially, and were now known as Mr. and Mrs. Kim, his father's last name. For some reason, his mother decided Jisung would have her last name, and it never bothered him. But something unfamiliar was rising in his chest. Uncertainty, maybe. No, it was harsher, more of a brutal slamming against his heart than an ache. Did he feel like an outcast? Yes, that was it. His last link to his family, Park, was gone, and he was an outsider.

Jaemin turned into a gated neighborhood and entered a code he got from his phone screen. The gates swung open, revealing a line of expensive houses. They had Greek-like pillars and large chandeliers that peeked through grand windows. Six years ago, his parents could only dream of owning such a commodity, and Jisung remembered Jaemin's warning. They're not who I think they are, Jisung thought. No way drug addicts without a penny to their name could afford to live here. The car stopped outside an eggshell white house, and Jaemin leaned his forehead against the steering wheel. Jisung was regretting coming.

"This is it, Jisung. Just know your big brother loves you more than life, okay?"

Jisung nodded and stepped out of the car. The bouquet in his hands weighed a thousand pounds as he knocked gently on the front door. It was navy blue with a fall wreath hung over the peephole. Jisung heard footsteps, and the door opened. His mother stood on the threshold, dressed in a pencil skirt and white blouse. Her hair was a fading chestnut brown, unlike the blonde she had when he was younger. She showed no signs of heroin abuse or losing a child to drugs. That jabbing feeling returned, and Jisung almost hurled on the welcome mat.

"Jisung?" She mumbled, and his father appeared. Jisung wanted a hug, but they only stared like he was a robber holding them at gunpoint. Instead, he was their son, and the only object he had was a pretty bouquet of sunflowers. He glanced around the foyer and noticed a small truck.

"I didn't realize you kept my old stuff?" Jisung smiled. He stepped across the threshold, and his mother placed a hand on his shoulder, face pained.

"Oh, no, Jisung-"

"Mommy! Who's at the door?" A voice called.

Jisung scoffed and threw the bouquet at his mother's chest. "Fuck you." She cringed and grabbed his arm, trying to pull him back inside. Jisung was fucking fuming. He shoved her away, and she stumbled into his father's arms.

"Jisung, please! We had to move on," she pleaded.

"Move on?" Jisung seethed. "You don't move on from your son!"

The little voice from before tottered to the door and grabbed his mother's shaking hand. "Mommy, who is he?" He pointed at Jisung, and Jisung's heart shattered. His parents didn't talk about him, not even to his little brother. He was no one to them.

"I'm your big brother. My name's Jisung." He crouched down and held out his hand. The kid shook his head.

"You're lying. Mommy said my brother died."

Jisung laughed, and the tears tasted bitter on his tongue. "You're right, kid. I am dead to them." He wanted to hurt someone. Whether it be himself, his mother, this little boy who didn't know any better, anyone. But he didn't get the chance because Jaemin grabbed his arm and buried Jisung's face in his hoodie.

"I told you to keep him away," Mrs. Kim spat at Jaemin. "He's not good for us."

"He's the best thing that ever happened to me, and you have no right to tell him otherwise." Jaemin clapped back. "I don't know how it's possible, but you were nicer on heroin."

Jaemin led him to the car, but Jisung refused to let go. Jeno wordlessly slipped into the driver's seat, and Jaemin cradled Jisung in his arms the entire way home.