VII  COLD

You’re like a calm lake
I’m like a boat floating on top
I used to say I would wish for nothing else
If only you would stop whining and asking me to wait

In contrast to the calm and comforting night outside of the window, Seungcheol was anything but composed. Strangely, his bedroom itself seemed to mirror his own thoughts, the marble floor no longer in sight. As much as he wanted to deny it, Seungcheol was rather transparent with his feelings.

As quoted from Jeonghan, “You wanna know what this idiot is thinking? Just do a quick scan across his private four walls and bam, the answer would be laid out in a clear cut manner”.

The thing was: Jeonghan was never wrong.

After all, God was indeed fair. He gifted the Opulent with pretty much everything others would thirst for - money, looks, reputation - except that Seungcheol receded to a total fool when his emotions were in the equation.

When asked what was Seungcheol’s biggest advantage, mostly agreed that he was both sensible and clearheaded. A reputable quality to have for a young man like him. He grasped and read one’s emotions in a matter of seconds and Jisoo once concluded that Seungcheol was highly observant of others.

Sadly, not of himself.

So the moment a mess started to form in his head, Seungcheol somehow found himself stuck at the very end of pitch black road. He loathed it. He wished he had a way, even a key to unlock the riddle in his head. Yet every time he tried so, he would end up in the middle of the room, sprawled in between heaps of clothing. A mess Seungcheol did not bother to care, let alone clean.

He heaved a sigh, trying to lull himself to sleep, hoping that tomorrow would be a better day.

- - - - - - - - - - -

The next morning, a faint smell of toast and bacon took over the mansion as the sun continued to arise, basking the entire South Korea with an early morning hue. Even from his relatively large ivory painted bedroom, Seungcheol could hear a loud chatter from below – to which he identified as his mother’s.

Like always, it was one-sided.

The image of his mother began to flood his mind, as she ranted at her husband who was more than likely to be on his laptop, scrolling down for today’s news. His dad was never talkative, but feeling his presence in the house on a land stretched out for almost 18 acres cause Seungcheol to beam. For once, it was nice to wake up to such ambience.

Seungcheol did not know when was the last time they had a meal, let alone breakfast together. He had to admit – he badly missed it. It must have been more than a month since Seungcheol last talked to his parent physically, which did not come off as a surprise anyway. Given with how busy both of his parents were, it was a rare occurrence for the entire family to sit down for breakfast; a whole jigsaw at last completed.

Despite the golden opportunity laid in front of him, Seungcheol did not think he would be able to complete the much needed missing piece.

Not today.

He slid across the still occupied floor and dashed for a crumpled white tee, all limped on his Mac computer. He smoothed it out before letting the piece over his head while simultaneously toed for abandoned jeans on the floor, sliding his already sock-cladded feet through.

Seungcheol knew he looked exceptionally haggard, but he could care less about it.

Instead of quiffing his hair in a style he usually did, Seungcheol merely gave it a light with his fingers, his locks fell in the most random places. He ran out of the typhoon mess he called his bedroom and down the main steps, skipping a few flights at a time. Finally noticing her son, Mrs. Choi called out for Seungcheol from the kitchen, her voice a little too shrill.

As expected, he turned it down.

Even when his mother beckoned for him the second time, coaxing him for a cup of coffee, Seungcheol dismissed it with a short “Sorry!” and he was out before she could even rushed to his side from the kitchen.

Seungcheol had no time for breakfast.

Not when Jihoon called him to meet up at a nearby park in fifteen minutes.

- - - - - - - - - - -

Seungkwan greeted the door at the second doorbell, face beamed with happiness. Soonyoung did not know what exactly happened for the Bourgeoisie to be so animated (well, when did he not?) at eight in the morning, but he smiled anyway.

He couldn’t say the same about the person standing beside him though.

Seokmin for once had a painfully fake smile on his face, one that did not reach his eyes. All too knowing of the exact reason to it, Soonyoung suppressed the words, letting Seokmin, who came along with him, to walk in first. He shut the door behind him with a sigh, unknowingly in tuned with the click of the lock, burying his uneasiness at once.

And for that he was grateful.

At least Seungkwan would not be pestering him for it.

“Where’s Jihoon hyung?” Seungkwan suddenly asked, hands already stretched outwards, waiting for their coats. His face was exuding genuine curiosity, but Seokmin’s darkened slightly at the mention of his brother, trying so hard not to let the younger see through him.

Truth to be told, he did not know the answer to the said question.

Seokmin did not have the slightest clue where or when did Jihoon went off to. All he remembered was waking up to an empty side of the bed and a post-it on the cold pillow. Aside from small traces of his morning routine here and there, Jihoon was nowhere to be found.

‘Back by night’ the note said and that was all to it.

However, Seokmin was not that dense. Or so to say. He had a fleeting thought that it might have something to do with the conversation they had last night. Judging by how he came upon Soonyoung who seemed to be waiting for him in front of the door, Seokmin realized Soonyoung may have the general idea of his brother’s whereabouts. Throughout their entire journey to Seungkwan’s house, his lips did itch for a few possible questions, but Seokmin did not prod further.

Instead, he cracked a few jokes like exactly what he did to Seungkwan.

“Probably finding the next victim to his wrath,” Seokmin chuckled, arms were now free from his red coat a little too small for his size. Seungkwan, who noticed how the sleeves fell short just an inch above his wrist did not say anything.

He did however scoff at Seokmin’s poorly constructed joke.

“Hey,” Soonyoung stepped into the living, trailing behind Seungkwan and Seokmin, only to stop when he noticed the lack of presence. He went over the chamber in the room, his eyes jumped from one person to another, picking out Junhui and Minghao, who respectively munching on a piece of pizza. “Where’s Mingyu?”

“Only god knows where the hell he is,” Seungkwan rolled his eyes, a little too dramatic for a rather slothful morning, but Soonyoung laughed anyway.   

- - - - - - - - - - -

Wonwoo scrunched his nose in concentration as the winter was starting to annoy him. He was never fond of the cold and with how inconsistent the weather had been this year, he concluded that 2015 was the worst year of all.

Ever since the government established this ridiculous ‘code’ system, the Earth itself had the biggest blow, suffering more and more by each year. Possibly on his side of the world, everything appeared to be nice and green, but such beauty did not stretch beyond the concrete walls. For once, the grass was not greener on the other side of the fence. Heck, they were not even green for god’s sake. They were all dried and lifeless – somehow similar to those Indigents who he pretty much avoided.

Because his parents did not approve of any interaction with the lower classes, so he did not dare.

Besides, as much as he loved the colour black, he detested grey more. With each errand he had to do, he somehow grew more hatred towards the said colour, seeing more and more grey. With how Opulents were too rich to work, there weren’t any stores or marts available within his very own circle that he had to cross the border and into the world of the Indigents. The world where they worked hard just to gain minimum wage, a world too grueling for a soul like him.

It was dull and Wonwoo was not liking the lack of colour.

The monotone spectrum was one of the issues, but seasons in general was what peeved him the most. Last year, summer was longer than the usual, yet this year? Winter seemed to take over half of 2015. Wonwoo still remembered how he saw the first snow in October, just a few days before Seungcheol’s big Halloween party. When the snow thawed out weeks later, noticing several signs that it might die down eventually, Wonwoo was more than jubilant.

Or so he thought.

Wonwoo ended up stepping into a thick coat of white snow in front of the doorway weeks later, a grimace returned to its initial place. Sighing, he his heels, cancelling his plans with his schoolmates. Assignments could wait, perhaps until summer decided to drop by. He would rather be basked in the heat of summer, rather than the freezing winter.

That was why when Hansol asked him to hang out, beyond the precincts of the completely vibrant district, Wonwoo repelled with a sharp no. He did eventually changed his mind later, seconds after seeing the younger’s dejected face. When asked, he gave his shoulders a shrug, reasoned that it might be good for them to go out after living like a couple of couch potatoes for so long. That alone managed to turn the sour frown on Hansol’s face upside down. Wonwoo all excited. They could go out for a coffee, perhaps hit the court nearby. But what he did not expect was how Seungcheol became the topic of their conversation instead.

“What do you think?” Hansol kicked a pebble a little too hard as it crossed across the pavement and hit the nearest metal dustbin with a clank. Having the attention on him, he apologized to a few passersby, bowing slightly at the elders.

Wonwoo rolled his eyes.

“I’m sure Seungcheol knows how to take care of himself. He’s not a-” suddenly, Wonwoo’s words declined to a sharp ‘oomph’ as he met a hard impact to his shoulder, almost throwing his bearing off. If it weren’t for Hansol’s hand on his forearm, Wonwoo would have kissed the concrete floor. Thanks to that damn bastard. “Watch where you’re – “

A rushed “sorry” was heard amidst the split-second incident and the stranger took off in long strides, leaving behind a stumped Wonwoo. He did manage to spot a blob of ashy brown hair, a mere second before the rather tall person rounded the street. They could have been a model for all that he knew, but Wonwoo did not give a damn. Model or not, that was rude of them to simply ‘hit and run’.

“Damn, he’s tall,” Hansol tutted, jealousy evident on his face. “I wish I have half the height that dude has.”

“Then bump into people without proper apology? Useless height I must say.”

- - - - - - - - - - -

When Jihoon stepped into the park, the thawed snow in which he saw weeks ago were now replaced with new, thicker ones. He thought winter would end early this year, but it appeared to have a mind of it’s own. Looking at the built up sleet all over the benches, he winced at the thought.

Because it reminded Jihoon so much of himself.

The snow was like him, inconsistent in many ways. He had been thinking so deeply about the matter at hand, but with every short lapse of time, his emotions would swing back and fro without any well-defined direction. And it prodded at his patience greatly.

One second he’s happy, while sad another.

It was just a big mess of raveled yarn.

The more he tried to untangle them, the more complicated it had gotten to the point that he was trapped in one of the knots, unable to free himself. It was like he was fifteen all over again. The time when his earphones kept interwoven in his pocket, the worst problem he could possibly had as his late parents smiled at the grumbles he made while sitting in the backseat of the car, all too immersed in music.

Although it was harder to disentangle the knots this time.

Apparently, they worsened at the thought of Seungcheol. Just thinking of his face would tighten the loop, further straining the already frail thread. Jihoon felt as if it he was walking on a tightrope, with Seungcheol at the other end, a great distance between them. He could feel the quake beneath his bare feet, sending waves of warning to his brain each time. Truthfully, Jihoon was torn. More likely stuck in the middle, at the most unsteady point of the rope.

Jihoon had to choose whether he would go through the risk to reach the other side, or simply turned around, back to where he was from.

Five minutes into waiting, nervousness already filled him up like a balloon. Jihoon kept playing with a folded paper in his pocket, feet jerking to a rhythm he had managed to come up with while waiting. He must jot it down, but the crumpled paper in his hand brought him back to reality, dreams and hopes all forgotten. He should really stop composing in his head.

It won’t happen.

Just as Jihoon was about to raise a white flag to the growing doubts in his head, a dash of panting mess could be seen running towards him. Jihoon did not exaggerate when he saw how scruffy Seungcheol was, despite being more than few feet away. He was no fashion expert, but any normal being could see that the elder’s outfit was mismatched. His hair stuck out in many directions, the scrunches on his clothes became even more apparent as he came closer. Nonetheless, Jihoon found himself smiling.

Yet the second he came to realize the forming curve on his face, he stripped it off forcefully, a stoic mask now in frontal view.

Why he even would have smiled at Seungcheol baffled the boy. He instead reasoned that it could be due to how ridiculous the raven looked, since there was no way he had to be smiling if that was not the case. His heart however seemed to disagree on it, with how it beated twice as fast with each second Seungcheol got closer and closer.

Jihoon jeered.

You know nothing, heart.

Seungcheol eventually arrived with a pant, bent forward with his hands on the caps of his knees. In between the 'haa's and 'hoo's, Seungcheol forced out a ragged “Hello” to which Jihoon aloofly brushed off.

“Just sit down.”

Seungcheol, of course, obeyed.

- - - - - - - - - - -

Two boxes of pizza and the third refill of soda later, Mingyu was still nowhere in sight. Unable to prolong any longer, Seokmin excused himself to the washroom, not the slightest aware of the person trailing behind him. Only when he felt a tug on his wrist as he exited that he noticed a blonde head, almost screaming in shock.

“What the-” the rest of the sentence left hanging, frozen when he felt a finger to his lips.  Thankfully, it was only Soonyoung. Slapping Soonyoung’s hand away, Seokmin grumbled. “God, hyung. You almost scared me to death.”

“But you’re not.”

“I could’ve!” and Seokmin was once again shushed by Soonyoung as he was pulled to the side, whispering that they needed to talk. Soonyoung steered him to the far end of the hallway, granting more privacy to the two. It was not as private as Soonyoung expected it to be, but it would make do.

As long as the rest would not eavesdrop on them, the corner alone sufficed. Though there was a high chance that Seungkwan might - given how scarily sensitive that boy was towards sound.

Soonyoung still could not believe how Seungkwan was able to pick up the conversation he had with Mingyu years ago. They were out in the tent for ing sake, underneath thick covers, like a few houses away from Seungkwan. Yet that little diva managed to latch onto every single word of their conversation. He did say something about being gifted with superhero abilities and all that crap, but Soonyoung knew all too well how stalker-ish Seungkwan could be.

Since that very day, Seungkwan still poked fun at him for liking this anime only he and Jihoon knew of.

Being extra watchful, Soonyoung gave the spot another scan, to see if Seungkwan had installed any CCTVs in the house. Even though Seungkwan was no Opulent and it was common sense to know that he would not afford such high-end technology, Soonyoung wouldn’t be stunned to find one. Seungkwan had cables so to say, thus it’s easier for him to get rare items at such low price. Or better yet, for free.

Lucky bastard.

“If you’re wondering about Jihoon, I don’t even know myself,” Seokmin stole Soonyoung’s glance, the CCTVs forgotten. “I’m sure you know more than I do.”

Soonyoung responded by knocking Seokmin’s forehead with the knuckle of his forefinger. It was not hard, though it did invite a subtle scowl from Seokmin. “No silly. I’m sure Jihoon would fill us up later. It is you who I am curious about.”

“Me?” Seokmin gaped that the question, pointing at himself. He was puzzled with the direction of the conversation, whereas Soonyoung inwardly chuckled, finding Seokmin a little too cute with the creases on his forehead.

“Yeah, you. Do you happen to see me talking to somebody else right now?” Soonyoung smirked, arms crossed in front of his chest. Seokmin could see Soonyoung’s own barcode peeking out from his sleeves and a little scratch above it, but he was too confused to say anything. 

“What more do you want to know about me?”

“No – ” Soonyoung laughed, his playful smirk was long erased “- that’s not what I meant. I just want to know whether you are okay. With Jihoon?”

Oh. OH.

Almost immediately everything became as clear as a sky on a sunny day. Soonyoung was sincerely worried – not of others, but of him. Lee Seokmin.

Seokmin felt a yank in his chest. He body was trembling that he could even feel the quivering down to his toes. Trying to mask the chaos going on in his head, he hoped Soonyoung wouldn’t notice how hard he dug his fingers into the wall behind him. Even if he were, Seokmin didn’t think that he would survive the growing excitement.

Mustering a calm reply, he settled for a short, “I’m fine.”

Yet he failed to remember that Soonyoung would never make it easy for him. With a hand on his cheek, which tainted with a faint shade of red, Soonyoung whispered, “I’m glad then” to which he gave Seokmin a couple pats before they were interrupted by a loud bang of the door.

“Sorry I’m late!” Mingyu finally came rushing in, his breath fell short. Not giving the change to rest, Seungkwan stomped to the male, nose flared with anger.

“Yah! YOU IRRESPONSIBLE TALL CREATURE!”

“What did you call me?!”

Soonyoung and Seokmin exchanged a look before they burst into a unison laughter.

- - - - - - - - - - -

A group of children were seen playing in the snow, in a world too cruel for them. Looking at how innocent they were, not having the slightest fear of what the future may hold, Jihoon resented the light laughter and cute giggles. He would never be able to experience his youth again, given how short it was as he had to give it up at an early age of sixteen.

Though Jihoon wasn’t particularly blaming his parents’ deaths for so.

But to be fifteen again would be nice.

For at the age of nineteen, he had many qualms to think of in which one of them was concerning the male beside him. Seungcheol hadn’t say anything since he first arrived, but Jihoon was more than aware that the other waited for him, probably too anxious to say anything.

Because Seungcheol had been fiddling with his fingers, gloves forgotten.

Not wanting to delay it any longer – thought mostly it was because Jihoon didn’t want to freeze an underdressed Seungcheol to death, Jihoon took a lungful of air.

Here goes nothing.

“I’ll marry you.”

And Seungcheol swore he could hear a pin drop from a distance.

“What?”

“I said I’ll do it. The marriage,” Jihoon stared downward, his eyes locked onto the lace of his shoes, the aglet worn off from only months of countless part time works. Fortunately, the black pair of Converse were still good to go. Though, when he looked over at Seungcheol’s kicks, despite him wearing like a total fluke today, they were still more expensive than Jihoon’s decent ones.

Is it too late to back out now?

“This is not a dream?” Seungcheol asked with a grin on his face, his dimples dipped deeper than before, sending more fluttering feelings down Jihoon’s body. He looked away almost immediately, clamping his lips together, preventing himself from mirroring the expression Seungcheol had.

“I could hit you to make sure it’s not,” Jihoon threatened. However, Seungcheol was not fazed by it, as the smile grew wider instead. “Wipe that off your face. I’m doing this for Seokmin.”

“You don’t need to disclose whatever your reason is. I am pleased either way.” Seungcheol cheerfully replied, his long lashes fluttered at every blink he made. Jihoon couldn’t find any traces of dejection, but if it did perhaps upset Seungcheol, then he did a very good job at masking it.

Remembering the paper in his winter coat, Jihoon cleared his throat, “I do have few conditions though.”

Seungcheol, ostensibly surprised did manage to gesture at Jihoon to continue, letting the latter took all the time he needed. Meanwhile, Jihoon’s hand dove for one of his pockets, finally fishing out the overly crumpled note. Carefully unfolding the pleats, Jihoon gave Seungcheol another look before he ran through the written conditions one by one in a chronological order. When Seungcheol didn’t say a word, seconds after he finished the last sentence, Jihoon forced out a nervous chuckle.

“Are they okay?” Jihoon thought Seungcheol was thinking deeply about it, but what he failed to notice was the subtle droop at the end of his lips. Hw did see Seungcheol’s smile instead, one the raven had mustered few seconds ago, the note now passed to the said male.

“They’re good.” Hearing that, Jihoon heaved out a relieved gust of air. “But wouldn’t it be better to sign an actual contract, rather than this creased list? I mean, we could ask Mr. Jung to help us out.”

“Mr. Jung?”

“He’s the father of my best friend, Jeonghan. A lawyer,” Seungcheol scanned through it again, as Jihoon silently went ‘ahhh’, nodding at the newfound fact. Seungcheol on the other hand was suffering behind the disguised smile, the sadness he felt in his heart started to seep through.

Yes, he wanted to marry Jihoon, protect him even. He was more than ecstatic when Jihoon finally came eye to eye with him. However, it all evaporated once the yellow paper came into his peripheral. As much as he wanted to take Jihoon under his care and marry him, for it to be ‘contractual’ was like a slap to his face.

Nonetheless, Seungcheol tried his best to be understanding, to accept whatever decision Jihoon made because the important thing was Jihoon actually agreed to it. Besides, Jisoo had a point. Thinking about it from Jihoon’s side, it must have been a hard decision to make. So Seungcheol smiled, for he was a fool. A foo who would do anything for Jihoon.

As long as the Indigent was safe.

“You know, you don’t have to,” Jihoon’s voice broke Seungcheol from his trance. “I mean an actual contract is not necessary. I guess I do trust you.”

But I don’t trust myself.

“It’s okay. It’ll just be a larger document with our official signatures and all,” Seungcheol pressed on the matter, his eyes lingered a little too long on the very last condition. He had to admit: his heart wrung each time he re-read the sentence for the umpteenth time. The words were glaring at him, a clear forewarning from Jihoon’s end. A line he shouldn’t cross. Somehow, he wanted to be selfish for once and crossed it out.

Because looking at number 5, I don’t think I’d be able to do it. 

AUTHOR'S NOTE

I. am. finally. done. with. this. chapter. YAYYYYYYYYY
I'm so sorry it took awhile as I've been experiencing mental's block lately
and only able to wring out this chapter after 3 days of writing.
Yup, 3 freaking day T T

I am so sorry if it's not as good or relatively short when compared to others.
I already had the storyboard planned out,
but the writing did not go as smooth as I expected it to be.
Truthfully, I am not entirely satisfied with this chapter. 
Need more description, more metaphors. But oh well.

I hope you enjoyed the plot so far!

As always, beta'd by my lovely Kim @mochajisoo

xoxo
Nash