“I know I said you could borrow the van,” Coups said, standing with his arms crossed. “But really-“

            The biker looked upon his prize possession with the face of a mother morning her lost child. The white van’s windshield was missing and replaced with a less than adequate thin plastic taped on. The front passenger’s seat bore spillage of blue paint. The sides and back of the van were wounded with tiny people-sized holes.

            Woozi shifted beside you in the parking lot, “You said you were getting a new bike anyway.” His voice sounded as if this was the plan from the beginning: take Coup’s can and trash it.

            Coups looked at you, “You got that drunk?” He rubbed his thumb unconsciously  on the back of the keys.

            “I don’t remember it,” you tried to sound honest. “But apparently I smashed the windshield in.”
            “With what?” Coups said, pacing around the front of the van.

            “Her body,” Woozi answered blank-faced.

            “You body-slammed into my baby?” Coups exclaimed, eye brows raised.

            After the rain of bullets, the windshield crumbling. You and Woozi removed the windshield and replaced it with a thin plastic cover. The blood-stains from the hour Woozi bled out on the passenger seat was unrecoverable so the two of you stopped by a paint store and poured the blue paint over it to cover the stains.

            Coups glared at you, “I’m not stupid,” he said dully, pointing to the sides. “I know bullet holes when I see them.”

            Woozi shoved his hands in his pockets, “You can bill me for the damage.”

            Coups narrowed his eyes, looking a bit hurt, “I’m not going to bill you.” He crossed his arms tightly over his chest. “Just worried-”     

            “I’m fine,” Woozi snapped, and turned around sharply. “I’ll talk about it some other time.”

            Woozi only took a step before Coups whipped him around, the disappointment of a father. “You go missing for three days. DK calls me practically bursting how you two disappeared in the middle of the night with no note. Then, I get a call from Joshua saying how this one called him telling him to call the police!” Coups nodded in your direction, brows furrowed.

            “We are fine now,” Woozi unconsciously touched his collarbone, the slash of scarred skin shielded by his shirt.

            “You can’t this,” Coups said sternly. “With gangs following our tail because of Joshua, you need to think about other people!” Coups lent up against the car, eyebrows lowered in a disappointed way. “We had thought they got you too.”

            Woozi took a step forward, for once faltering in his emotionless expression, “Sorry.” Was all he said. Everyone knew this was the closest Coups would get to an heartfelt apology from Woozi.

            Coups eyed you suspiciously, “Don’t lie. Just tell me you didn’t do something…” Coups looked at Woozi now, not willing to let go of the topic. “Dangerous.”

            “We are safe now,” Woozi said.

            Coups’s eyes widened, not pleased that Woozi didn’t disagree with the statement. “What did you do? For goodness sake! If you made a deal with Monster-”

            “No, I did not do that.” Woozi reassured him. “Trust me.”

            Coups narrowed his eyes, “I wouldn’t have problems trusting you if you weren’t so damn secretive.” He glanced at his car, “Or if there wasn’t bullet holes in my baby.”

            Your eyes darted down as Coups’ voice rose, “Yes, I know what bullet holes look like. Two years of getting shot at from inside a car kind sets that impression.”

            You put a hand on Woozi’s shoulder, “He didn’t do anything stupid. I did.”

            Coups brows furrowed, and then sighed heavily, hunching over. He put his hands up in surrender, “I won’t ask.”

            You smiled a bit. Coups had no problem scolding Woozi for his actions, but when it came to you he was hesitant.

            “I expect both of you to explain this once whatever it is you did has blown over.” Coups said sternly. Perhaps it was because Woozi and Coups were closer.

            “We will,” you said. “It just may be a few years.”
            Coups opened his mouth in outrage and close it forcefully, biting down on his cheek, “I don’t want to know.” A vein in his forehead budged as he muttered to himself. “You really, don’t want to know this, Cheol.”

            Woozi snickered under his breath, the mischievously grinning to himself. He leaned into you, “You think he is pissed now? Wait until he hears I was shot.”

            You nudged him, “I think he would be more pissed about how you were shot by your own gun,” Woozi’s grin faltered. “You idiot.”

            Coups looked at you with the eyes of a man twice his age. He looked haggard and worn, as if  his eyes had seen the very wars that bought you into being. The eyes looked away and his oil-stained forearms dug into the deep pockets of his biker jacket and pulled out a letter, he extended it out to you.

            You took it, the front was addressed to Choi Seungcheol. “Why are you giving me this?” You said. Coups swallowed hard and motioned for you to open it.

            Your fingers slid through the already opened envelope and pulled a single piece of paper. The thin paper flicked open as you pushed it. It read:

 

            Dear Mr. Cheol,

                        Regarding your loved one, Lee Chan, we are informing you that another person has been added to his contact list to see him. The person has been listed below and will be allowed visiting hours twice a week from noon to two p.m.

Thank you for your time,

            The Peo Institute for Mood Disorders

 

            Your eyes grazed over your own name sitting at the bottom and you looked at Cheol. He sat on the hood of the trunk looking down.

            “I’m so sorry,” You said softly. You couldn’t imagine the thrill Coups must’ve had when reading the beginning, and then the disappointment when the name was not his own.

            “It’s fine,” Coups spat, looking angrier at himself. “No. I just pay the medical bills- it’s all I am good for. Its not like he would actually want to see me.”

            You folded the letter back up and put it in the pocket, “I will see him this week,” you said. “He needs some visitors at least.” The only other person with visiting rights was Hoshi and you knew he wasn’t visiting him.

            Coups tossed you the keys. “You can have her. I got Baby number dos.” The black motorcycle gleaming the the parking spot over. “Scram. Go on. I’m sure DK is waiting for a lecture for you back at the apartment.”

 

 

            As Coups predicted, DK gave you one hell of a lecture. On the other hand, you were able to convince both him and Hoshi of your lie.

            “No wonder I’ve never seen you drink,” Hoshi laid down on the couch, sporting another hangover himself. “You go crazy.”

            “Just don’t drink here,” DK said, “I don’t want to double my portion size for hangover soup every morning.” He shot a dirty look in Hoshi’s direction.

            You and Woozi dragged the gym bag back into your room. When Woozi closed the door, he turned to you and peeled it open, revealing the stacks of money inside. He looked up to you and grinned, “Four hundred grand.”

“One for Josh, one for me, one for you.” You looked at the bag once more. “Doesn’t this look like more than four hundred grand?”

            “I don’t know,” Woozi said.

            “I handled these stacks every day when I was a dealer. This has got to be way more. I bet double, maybe triple.”

            Woozi ran his fingers through his hair, grinning ear to ear in disbelief, “I still am getting my share. It’s your ransom. Do whatever you want with the rest. What on earth am I going to do with a hundred thousand?” He smiled slightly.

            “Pay on your debt. Move to L.A after you graduate. Start your own music production business,” You listed off things on your fingers. “Literally anything.”

            “What are you going to do with yours?” He asked, zipping up the bag.

            “All of it goes straight into savings,” You said. “After college I want to move to New York. It’s a hella expensive place.”

            Woozi was halfway zipping the bag when he stopped, “What are you going to do with what is leftover?”

            You slid your backpack off, “I was going to give it to Coups.”

            Woozi’s head bobbed backward, creasing brow, “Coups? I never knew you two were close.”

            “I thought it would help with Dino’s hospital bills. Also, he could buy that townhouse downtown.”

            He put the gym bag under his bed, “You are moving in with us?”

            “You give him the money,” you said, not wanting to make a big deal about moving in with Woozi again. “Make up some lie to make him take it. Or tell him what you want, just leave out the drug dealer part.”

            “He wouldn’t judge you.”

            “He would think of me differently,” You said. “Everyone would. I don’t want that.”

            “They wouldn’t,” Woozi said.

            “They would,” You said. “You don’t need to sugarcoat it. I know. Being roommates with a nobody is one thing. Being roommates with an ex-drug dealer and suspected gang member is another.”

            Woozi smiled uncertainly, unable to say anything.

            You took off your coat, “School ends in a few weeks. Are you staying in this town over the summer?”

            “It’s not like I have any family to go back to,” Woozi muttered. “The lease here ends after the school year is done. Normally, I stay with Coups and do freelance music work over the summer.”

            “If Coups is getting the apartment we could all stay for the summer.” You said.

            The door swung open, DK poked his head in. “I wasn’t eavesdropping I swear,” He said. “But Coups is getting the apartment?”

            Woozi’s worried eyes flicked to the gym bag peaking out under the bed, “How long were you there?”

            “Not long.” A wooden spoon in DK’s hand dripped red sauce on his fingers, he looked down and raised his eyebrows, remembering why he intruded in the first place. He extended the spoon out for you to take, which you did. “More seasoning?” DK’s calm demeanor told you he heard nothing else of the conversation.

            You tasted it and frowned, “More? There is too much in there already.”

            DK winced, “Hoshi said-,” He shook his head, waving the spoon. “Anyway, Coups. Apartment. When?”

            Woozi looked slightly relieved also, “We don’t know yet but hopefully he will buy the townhouse near the guitar store.”

            DK grinned, “HOSH! They are getting the Harry Potter house!”
            Hoshi slid in, his mouth red with splatters of sauce, “What?” He said, still chewing on a noddle messily. “I loved that one.”

            DK turned to you, “It has an actual cupboard-under-the-stairs,” His eyes narrowed on Woozi. “Woozi wanted to put storage in there.”

            “Cupboards are meant for storage.”
            “We cannot have a Harry Potter closet in your house and not do something cool with it. Unacceptable.” Hoshi huffed.

            “What else would fit in there besides food?”

            “It could be a mini man den.”

            “The only person who could fit would be Dino.”

            “And you, you midget.”

            Woozi’s eyes widened, cautioning Hoshi to be careful with his words. Hoshi took a step back, seeing the error in his sharp tongue.

            “You are a liar by the way,” DK interrupted the line of fire that was Woozi’s blazing glare and held up the spoon to Hoshi. “Too much garlic.”

            Hoshi the red from the corner of his mouth, “No, its not. Says who?”

            “Says her,” DK says.

            “Well, she doesn’t have to eat it then,” Hoshi snapped. “There is never too much garlic.” He winked at you and  left dramatically. “My mother was eighth-Italian.”

            “You say ‘eighth-Italian’ as if it means something-!” DK huffed after him. He gave you a courteous smile before closing the door and yelling after Hoshi, “Your mother never even so much as toasted herself a slice of bread in her life!”

 

            The very afternoon, Woozi got Coups to accept the money after much bickering and even still, Coups was wary where the money came from. When he did accept the mysterious gym bag of cash, you had the nagging feeling he knew it had something to do with you. When he came over to eat the pasta that Hoshi still thought didn’t have enough garlic, Coups kept sending you calculative looks from across the table.

            “How much is this place?” Hoshi sulked over the homemade spaghetti.

            “If we want to buy it, it will be eight-hundred thousand,” Coups said.

            Hoshi almost fell off his chair, looking as if the words had shot him in the chest. “We c-cant-!” He exclaimed breathlessly. “What on earth makes you think we can afford this?”

            “I can,” Coups said nonchalantly.

            DK brows furrowed, “When can you afford this?” Both of the guys were looking at Coups as if he had just announced his acceptance into the circus.

            “Don’t worry about it,” Coups sent the same calculative glare at you. You shifted your eyes to the ceiling.

            “I couldn’t live in a house worth my school tuition,” DK said, “and not pay you anything.”

            “Oh, you wouldn’t living in this place for free,” Coups told him matter-of-factly, leaning against the counter. “I will be accepting rent at four-hundred dollars a month.”

            The house was just outside of the heart of downtown- the most desirable place to live. Coups’ renting cost would be a steal. The apartment you were renting out now was more than five hundred.

            After much arguing, which for once wasn’t you and Woozi, the group left settling on the contract. Coups told you and Woozi separately with very suspicious glares that the rent wouldn’t apply to you.

 

 

 

 

            Woozi handed you a plate you grabbed it with a rag and wiped it down as he got another red stained plate and dipped in the foaming water in the sink. DK and Hoshi made dinner so the two of you were in charge of cleaning up

“Just exactly how much was in the bag I handed over to Coups?” He said through a tense expression.

            You sighed, preparing yourself for the reaction. “One point five million.”

            Woozi dropped the plate back into the batch of water. “One p-point-? One point five million-? You stole one point five million-!”

            “The bag you grabbed from the trunk of the car had a lot more than we both thought.”

            “How are you worth one point five million?” Woozi whispered aggressively.

            “Best dealer in Detroit.” You repeated. “You’ve tried them. My drugs are magic.”

            Woozi didn’t disagree, but stared at you dumbfounded. “Let us pray they never find us,” He growled. “One point five million.” He repeated quietly. “One point five million is a cause for murder!”

            “Holding the gang leader at gunpoint is already cause for murder. Either way, they want us dead.” You said, “Well, they already wanted me dead. So, nothing has changed for me.” You laughed devilishly.

            Woozi ducked his hand back in the sink to with a sick expression. Coups entered from the back bedroom where he and Hoshi were negating the noise rules of the house

            You put the plate down and caught Coups arm, “Hey.” You tried a winning smile and swung keys around your finger. “Want to ride in the ol’ baby one more time?”

            Coups looked at the bike helmet on the couch, “I don’t miss her that much.”

            “Come on,” You whined. “One ride.”

            Coups squinted. “What do you have up your sleeve?”

            You were fast. You grabbed the helmet and tossed it behind you. Woozi caught it nonchalantly.

            The skin between his brows creased. “What are you up to? If this involves both of you it can’t be good.”
 

 

 

 

 

 

            The van parked in a lot and the two of you got up. Coups looked at the sign , the glowing words “The Peo Institute” taunting him.

            “Why did you bring me along?” Coups said. “I won’t be able to pass security”
            “Trust me,” You said, slinging a backpack over one shoulder. “Just follow my lead.”

            The two of you entered the building and was met with a guard standing behind a glass booth. A thick door with an alarm prevented you from going further. You slid the letter Coups had given you earlier along with your ID. The guard looked at them and nodded and then he looked at Coups.

            “He is my bodyguard,” You said.

            “I need ID and proof of admission.”

            “I gave you mine,” you scoffed. “When a disabled person comes with their caregiver do you deny the caregiver?”

            The guard looked at Coups, “Is he your caretaker?”

            “He is my bodyguard,” You repeated.

            “We have guards stationed within this facility ma’am. You will be safe here.”

            “But those guards are not my bodyguard.”

            The guard sighed, trying his best to keep his friendly expression. “We have a very secure facility.”

            You looked down, purposefully biting your lip and furrowing your brow. You shook your head and leaned into the glass sincerely. “I’m not supposed to tell anyone this. But I am going through some legal issues with a very violent man at the moment.”

            “This is a very safe facility.” He assured you.

            “I know, I know-,” Your voice cracked slightly and nose crinkled. You brought your hands to your eyes. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be emotional- I just can’t stand the thought of that man.”

            The guard stood up as your shoulders began to shake. Coups tried to conceal his state of shock at your performance. A tear escaped from underneath your hand.

            “I understand, you are just doing your job. God, this is so embarrassing. I’ll just see my son when he gets out. It’s fine.” You spoke in a nasally voice. You wiped your red eyes. You touched Coups. “Come, Clyde. Let’s go home.”

            You pulled on Coups’ sleeve with a teary gaze and looked back at the guard, “I am glad my son is in such a good place. You do good protecting him.” You turned away.

            “Wait-“ The guard said.

            Bingo.

“Since it’s a legal issue….” The guard trailed off, rubbing his hands.

            A devilish smile slipped out of you before turned around and resumed the wistful appearance. “Oh thank you so much!” You groveled. “Thank you! My son will be so glad.”

            He buzzed the door open and the two of you stepped inside. The guard led you to the front desk. The lady there gave you guest name tags and a tour guide escorted you to Dino’s wing.

            You wiped away the performance tears, walking behind the guard. Coups turned to you, eyebrows raised and stunned.

            “Child’s play,” You said rubbing your eyes with your t-shirt. You didn’t mind playing into the stereotype of the ‘fragile, weak woman’ as long as it got you what you wanted.

            The staff led you past a gym and down a hallway decorated with motivational posters. Kids rushed by you in giggling groups. They were dressed as any teens would be, the only thing out of place was the brightly colored medical bands around their wrist. One older girl had put stickers on hers.

            You passed by some open rooms. They were average in size: single occupancy with a dresser and a desk with enough open space to lie down on the carpet if they wanted to. One teen sat on her Spiderman bed sheets with an other woman. You looked. Another girl was giving her father a hug as he kissed her on a forehead.

            The staff leading the two of you smiled at the kids as they ran by. “Jenna! Don’t run. Thomas, did you get into the craft drawer again?” He looked at the mischievous kids who’s hands were doused glitter.

            The casual atmosphere made it easy to overlook the security guards. They were stationed throughout, and with every gaggle of kids, a few staff members trailed behind dressed casually. The staff following the boy with the glitter hands had a bored expression- obviously not the kids’ first run in with the craft cabinet.

A bell rang and a lady’s voice spoke on the intercom. “Hello Residents, hope you enjoyed your lunch! It is noon, so free time until two. As always you are encouraged to join the outside activity today, which today is…” The peppy voice paused excitedly. A few kids stopped to listen. “Dodge-ball! Go to the 201 to meet for that.” The voice clicked offed.

            “What happens after visiting hours?” You asked the staff.

            “It varies. But today is Tuesday so they will have mediation, or as the kids calls it ‘scheduled nap time’. After that they will have group counseling.”

            “And after that?” Coups asked anxiously.

            The staff reached into his pockets and pulled out a pamphlet and turned it over to timetable on the backside.

            This place had everything. Rec time, gym time, individual and group counseling, even a time blocked off for in building church service if the kids were religious. There were specific times blocked off for different disorders.  They served everything from Post-Tramatic Stress Disorder to OCD. Coups pocketed the pamphlet, smiling.

            She neared a door that had Dino’s name written on a cut out paper flower. Handwritten notes of encouragement from other kids were taped to his door- most likely the result of group counseling. The staff knocked, “Chan?”

            “You don’t call him Dino?” You whispered to the staff member. In the forms, Coups put in the notes to not call Dino by his real name. Dino always threw a fit when anyone did so.

            “He requested to be called by his birth name,” the staff said shortly.

            “Come in,” A voice said from the inside.

            The staff opened the door and nodded to the both of you before departing. Coups took a step away from the door. He gestured for you to go in first.

            Unlike the other kid’s rooms, decorated with belongings and posters, this one was bland. The walls were nothing other than white paint. Dino was sitting at his desk, he turned around.

            His hair had grown. He wore a oversized t-shirt and sandals. There were bags under his eyes.

            “You came,” He said blandly turning back around.

            You stepped into the room awkwardly. “Of course I did.”

            “Where is Hoshi?” Dino stood up.

            “He’s at the apartment.” You said.

            “Oh,” Dino sat back down. “Come in, I guess.”

            “Did you think I would bring him?”

            “Yes.”

            “Sorry to disappoint but it’s just me today,” you laughed awkwardly, trying to overlook the shallowness in his cheeks.

            “It’s fine. You’re-,” Dino sighed. “Fine”

            You pulled the chair closer to him. “How have you been?”

            “How do you think?” Dino said roughly.

            Your hopes of the conversation being normal were extinguished “Hopefully, that means great?”

            Dino didn’t react. He stared straight in front of him. He was a stark contrast to the bright colors in the hall and the laughing kids surrounding him.

            “Everyone else here seems to be having a good time.”

            “Everyone else here has problems with them. They  have ed up home lives. They are mentally broken.” Dino had adjusted to a dull tone . “I just want to go home.”

            You put a hand on his shoulder, “You aren’t here by accident, Dino.”         

            “My name is Chan.” He snapped. “I would appreciate it if you called me so.”       

            “Dino is your name.”

            He gritted his teeth and immediately began pacing his breathing. “I thought you would understand.” He muttered. “No. Just go. Your just like the rest.”

“Dino, please-”
“Chan.”           

“Why can’t I call you by your real name?”

“Why can’t I call you by yours?” Dino shot back. Your chest pricked. Dino knew you were going under an alibi?

            “Chan,” You said seriously, “you must realize at this point that there is something wrong.”

            Dino turned at looked at you, an expression stripped of any honestly. “Don’t come here again unless Hoshi is with you.”

            You stood up and lifted your backpack on the table. You reached inside and pulled out a plastic bag and set it down. Dino turned around slightly to glance at it.

            “Here is something to make my visit not completely worthless.” You said drily.

            Dino reached over and pulled back the plastic. His eyes widened as he recovered with a  handful of paintbrushes- the bristles fresh white and the barcode still stickered to the wood. Dino looked at the small pots of fresh paint sitting in the bag and then to his hands.

            “I heard they had art sessions on Tuesday,” you zipped up your backpack. “I didn’t want you to be stuck with the cheap dollarstore paintbrushes.”

            You grabbed your backpack and nodded to him shortly. You turned around for the door.

            “These are really expensive.” Dino said.

            “You can never say I never did nothing for you.” You zipped up for jacket. “I won’t come again and I won’t bring Hoshi. But I will be waiting for you. Make some cool paintings. I want to see them when you get out.”

            You cleared your throat, feeling nervous. “You should know. Coups bought a house and we already planned for you to have a bedroom all to yourself. You’ll be across from Woozi and I’s room. You can ask for art lessons anytime.” You stepped for the door. “I’ll see you around.”

             There was a clatter and Dino was enveloping you in a hug. “I like the paintbrushes,” His voice cracked.

             Your arms slid around his head, mimicking the same forcefulness. “I know. They are the very ones I use.”

            Dino refused to let go, “They are very expensive.”

            “You are worth it.” You ran your hands through his hair.

            Dino sniffled. “I missed you.”

            “Same here, buddy.”

            Dino finally let go and you sat down as Dino started talking about life in the institute. He admitted it wasn’t bad. The staff was nice and the food delicious, still he missed the freedoms of going outside. Dino complained about the staff not trusting him after an incident where Dino was caught sneaking a pair of scissors back into his room. Based off of Dino’s history of attempted suicide, you thought the staffs cautious eye was justified.

“It’s not horrible,” Dino grumbled with a hint of bitterness. “Still, I think I could have easily done all this therapy outside of the classroom.”

“Coups tried that,” you reminded him. “And you ran out of the counseling office.”

            “Don’t get me started on him.” Dino leant back in his chair, crossing his arms.

            You glanced at the door. “Don’t tell me you are still angry.”

            Dino glared at you, “He only wanted me in this place because he wanted to get rid of me.”

            You could’ve laughed, “You don’t seriously-!”
            “No!” Dino slammed his fists on his desk behind him. “You don’t understand. Coups didn’t like me from day one. Day one at Hoshi’s and Coups came in and warned Hoshi to not take in the street trash. You can’t tell me he doesn’t despise me.”

            You remembered Joshua telling you about the conflicts between the two of them when Dino first entered the picture.. The first impression must have been strong.

            “Maybe that was true at one point. But I think things have changed.”

            “Look where I am,” Dino threw his arms up. “I am here because Coups doesn’t want me clogging up his space.”

            “You are here because you are not healthy.” You said determinedly

            “Fine. Whatever.” Dino drawled. “But you can’t deny it was an easy out for him to be finally rid of me. He doesn’t like me”

            You thought of Coups standing outside of the open door.

            “Well,” you sighed. “Would you object if I brought, I dunno…Coups next time?”

            “I wouldn’t object. Company is company.” Dino shrugged.

            “That’s good,” You said loudly leaning back in your chair and glancing at the door.

            Dino twitched at the sudden outburst from your normal monotone voice.

            You glanced at the door, waiting for Coups to make his entrance. He didn’t

            “He said he wouldn’t mind!” You yelled this time turning fully around in your chair.

            Dino furrowed his brows as a figure in a leather jacket stepped into the doorway. Dino turned to you, mouth agape.   

            “H-he isn’t supposed to be here!” He turned to you, looking betrayed. “How did you get him in here?”

            You stood up and winked at him. “You said you wouldn’t mind. If you had said no, I was going to let him stay in the hall.”

            “I change my mind!” Dino objected.

            Coups stood in the doorway, tipping on the boundaries of the room.

            You tisked, and nodded him in. Coups took a small step in.

            Dino leaned back and crossed his arms, “I don’t want to talk to him.”

            Coups’ expression relaxed. “You’ve lost weight.

            Dino refused to respond. He turned his head to the side.

            “Have they been feeding you well?” Coups turned his head and eyed the pile of untouched envelopes on his desk. He swallowed hard. “I see you aren’t reading my letters.”

            “What would there be to read?” Dino snapped.

            You gave a heavy sigh and patted your thighs. “I’ll be in the hallway.”

            Dino reached for you, “Don’t go.”

            You smiled sweetly and leaned over to hug him. “Take care, buddy. I will see you next week,” you let go. “And try to keep an open mind.”

            His smile was strained. You walked out and sat outside in the hallway.

            Coups sat down in the chair, his hands awkwardly placed on the table. “You’ve been well?”

            “How do you ing think?”

            “Language.” Coups said automatically.

            Dino huffed and focused his eyes on the brushes. “As expected. The first thing you do is scold me.”

            Coups blinked, seeing the harshness in his words that. “I- uh-.”

            “Why are you even here?” Dino snapped, “Be glad I’m not cluttering your space anymore. You can finally do the dishes the right way now.”

            Coups grunted. “I’m not glad your out of the house.”

            “Come on,” Dino growled, lip curling up. “Now that we are alone and you are finally free of me. At least give me the respect of telling me the truth.”

            “I have no idea where you are getting this from from.”

            “No idea?!” Dino burst. “No ing idea-!”
            “Language.” Coups interrupted

            Dino leant back in his chair, growling under his breath and clawing at his eyes. “How about the first time you met me?” Dino yelled. “How about we start with that?”

            Coups looked down, regretting it instantly.

            “Lets start with the time when you looked Hoshi in the eye, while I was in the room and told him to not house street trash like me. ‘who knows what kind of bugs that thing has.’”

            Coups pursed his eyes shut, sighing.

            “You never liked me hanging around Hoshi, not once! You always checked my bags to make sure I wasn’t stealing things- like I would even steal.”

            “I didn’t know you then. I was just being cautious.” Coups tried to defend himself.

            “Or what about that time when I was taken back to my real foster parents and you told Hoshi to just leave me?” Dino’s skin was irritated in pink with letting go of all the things bottled inside for so long.

            This was a conversation that Coups needed to have with Dino.

            “I didn’t know they were abusing you.”

            “Hoshi did! And he almost left me with them! Because of you!” Dino yelled.

            “I’m sorry, okay!” Coups said loudly, trying to control his own volume. “If I had known you then like I know you now, I would’ve never done any of those things.”

            “You would still though. You hated me then, you hate me now. Now you just have to keep the appearances up that you tolerate me for the sake of the social worker.”

            Coups jolted back a bit looking hurt. “I don’t hate you-”

            “Bull!” Dino interjected, his face a tomato. “You order me around like a dog. Telling me when to work, who I can hang out with, and who I can’t. Telling me what chores to do and what grades I should get. You even almost you stopped me from doing basketball. You hate me and congratulations, you won, you’re rid of me.”

            “Listen here,” Coups was having enough of Dino throwing ridiculous allegations around. “I have enforced rules that any other parent would have. Yes, grades, chores. You know why you work at the shop? Because I need to know that if you weren’t able to get into a good college that you would at least have a trade you could rely on. I wouldn’t want you to be stuck back on the streets again.

“Yes, I do want to have a say in who you hang out with. You think that after what happened to me and Woozi- how easily we were influenced by friends we trusted into doing something that is the most regrettable thing in our lives- that I would just allow you to hang out with anyone you damn pleased? God no, I will be damned if I let the same thing happen to you that did me.”

            Dino looked up, eyes wide and lips parted.

            “And I stopped you from doing basketball? Where the did you get that from? Before you joined the team, they were struggling to stay alive. Did you know what when you joined, I donated an entire paycheck so they could get new uniforms? Where did you think those came from?” Coups huffed and sat back in his chair.

            The lingering words stilled in the air. Dino was quiet for a few moments, staring down at his lap. T

            “Then why?” Dino’s voice softened. “Why haven’t you adopted me?”

            Something with the weight of lead pounded down in Coups’ stomach.

             “In two years, I will be eighteen. And I won’t have any ties to anyone anymore. I will be alone again.” Dino’s shoulders shook. “Do you really not want me?”

            Coups stood up so fast the table rocked. He picked Dino up my the elbows and brought him to his arms.

            Dino stood still, shocked by the embraced of the man who had never so much had given him a pat on the back. Dino tried to stifle his tears.

             “I have never had a son and I doubt I will ever know what that feels like. But Dino, you have brought out the father in me.”

            Dino wailed, so loudly you could hear it from the hall. The two were embracing and from the crack, you could see a smile on Dino’s face as tears trailed down his cheeks.      

            “I apologize for how I treated you then,” Coups said, a hand rubbing the boy’s back. “But my feelings have changed. If I could go back in time and change it I could, but I can’t. All I can say is that now, I have thought of you as my own ever since you moved in.”

            “I love you.” Dino said. “I don’t really hate you, you know that? I just say stupid things sometimes-,” Dino gasped out.

            Coups stood still, his face froze as water brimmed at his eyes. He nodded, patting Dino on the back  and hold him. “Shh, you don’t need to say anything.”

            They stood for a while, not saying anything. Dino soaked in the embrace, making up for all the lost time he never had one.

            “If its not too late to ask,” Coups said. “I have the papers. I was going to give them to you at the basketball game. But would you want-“

            Dino answered with sobs, his hands trembling as his body shook. He sunk lower and Coups held his arms back up. 

            Coups took that as a yes.

           

           

            You took a step away and slid the van keys under the door. They needed time by themselves to heal. Your work here was done.

            You walked out into the parking lot. The sun illumined the bus stop sign, just as you were about to walk towards it, a car caught your eye.

            It was parked in the entrance, a little distance away. The driver sat on the hood, his tiny legs dangling off the sides. His many-ringed fingers tapped a beat in the space in between his thighs, head bobbing and shoulders jolting to the music only he could hear. The typical all black outfit, and pointed shoes could be spotted across the parking lot. His platinum hair glowed white, his pale skin was spotless.

            Your hands slid into your pockets, striding over to the car, “Hey ponytail!” You hollered, “Its blazing out, how can you still wear black?”

            Woozi looked up, and jumped off the car. He walked to you, kicking his heels out in a swagger. “It’s an aesthetic.” He swirled the keys around his finger. The black round glasses perched on his nose reflected direct sunlight.

            “Are you here to take me home?” You asked bluntly adjusting the backpack straps.

            Woozi sighed looking up at the sky, “It wasn’t like I had anything better to do.”

            “How did you know I would need a ride?”

            “Call it roommate intuition.” Woozi smiled cockily.

            “Interesting,” you said. You looked at him with a devilish smile, clicking your heels together impatiently. “Is that a new outfit?”

            “No.”
            “Why?”

            “Why?” Woozi said, confused with the question. “I don’t know? It’s just not a new outfit.”

            “It should be a new outfit.”

            Woozi’s eyebrow twitched. “It’s not.”

            “You got money. You could buy a new outfit.”

            “I don’t want to buy a new outfit.”

            “Why?”

            “Because I want the first thing I buy to be something special.”

            “Why?”

            “Because I want it to?”

            “Why?”

            “ARE YOU GOING TO GET IN THE GODDAMN CAR?” Woozi growled.

            You broke out into the grin you were holding back. You playfully punched him in the arm. “You are too easy to irritate.”

Woozi elbow around  you in a chokehold and dug his fingers in your hair ruffling. You squealed and reached behind you to his sides. He jumped back, “No tickling.”
            “When was that a rule?” You said stepping forward. Woozi wrapped the open jacket over itself, like a lady embarrassingly hiding her low-cut top.

            “Its always been a rule.” Woozi snapped.

            “We can yell, scream, bicker, punch, slap, yank and drive each other crazy until three in the morning, but not tickle?” You said stepping forward.

            “Tickling is a freak of nature.” Woozi extended the keys out. “I tried to come here and do something nice and I am getting assaulted.”

            You lowered your menacing wiggling hands, smirking. “It was nice.”

            Woozi relaxed, and opened the passenger door. You got in and Woozi climbed in the driver’s seat. “Thanks for picking me up.” You nudged him as the engine spluttered.

            He took off his glasses and bent one of the earpieces. His finger rested on the other earpiece put didn’t move. A flicker of a smile passed and he turned to you, tucking your hair behind your ear and sliding the glasses on you. On Woozi, the lenses looked stylistic, on you they looked comical. “You look good.” He said.

            Woozi rested for a moment and drunk in your appearance as you grinned “Do I?”

            He turned forward and put the car in gear and drove off, “Yes. But I look better.”