Narrator POV

“Ayee Hyungwon you made it!” a perky blond was the first one to acknowledge the new presence.

“Thank god,” Hyungwon sat beside the blond.

The dark shadow slumped on the other couch, with his feet prompted table on the coffee table, crossed his legs.

“Jooheon hyung went home in a bitter mood,” his low voice flowed rhythmically, “Something about not seeing you in his cheering squad.”

Minhyuk nested his blonde hair on Hyungwon’s shoulder, “Well that brat needs to grow up.”

Looking around, Hyungwon sensed another missing soul, “Where is the older brat?”

“Wonho was determined to wait for you,” I.M stirred his drink with a blank face, “But that concentration lasted no longer than a second when a petit brunet passed by.”

“As compensation, he is paying for our drinks,” Minhyuk concluded.

I.M’s eyes opened a fraction, “He didn’t say that. He said he would pay for Hyungwon’s…”

“Yes which is why I haven’t had anything until now,” Minhyuk scowled at the tall male, “Order me a drink! No make that a dozen, let’s make Wonho go bankrupt.”

“First, he will kill you, and second, you could probably drink yourself to death and still wouldn’t make a single scratch on his bank account,” the maknae stated bluntly.

“Shut up Changkyun.” Minhyuk snapped.

Changkyun, only his closest friends were allowed to address him like that. To everybody else, he was the invulnerable I.M.

Minhyuk waved his hand in the air for a waiter but nobody paid him any attention making him get up and march to the bar, cursing under his breath.

“What’s up with you today,” the maknae observed insightfully, “You’re usually mute but today you also look dead.”

Hyungwon didn’t say anything.

“It was one of those meetings huh?” being the youngest in their group, he didn’t get the chance to talk a lot which meant he listened. He caught the details that others miss.

Hyungwon sighed, “The 37th,” he mumbled.

Changkyun nodded knowingly. In their little group, Hyungwon and Wonho were the only ones that were well off, financially at least. Minhyuk worked as a cashier at the local supermarket, Jooheon owed his income to underground rapping, and I.M himself was still a student.

Oh and there was one other person, Kihyun, who was their unofficial friend (he still hasn’t gained the privilege of calling him Changkyun yet), worked as Wonho’s secretary.

Still even if some had to scratch and save up, they all got to wake up the next day with a plate of homemade waffles in front of their face. On several occasions, the boys invited one or both over to their houses, they were like brothers and their parents treated all of them like real sons, but rarely would Wonho or Hyungwon come over. Wonho would always just smile and say he had a date to go to. Hyungwon would reject politely saying he had to accompany his father to dinner which they all knew was bull. The only time they came over was for important holidays like Christmas or New Years and that was it.

In reality, everybody knew that they didn’t want to come because the short amount of warmth they’d feel for a few hours would only make them long for it more after. No matter how well the other boy’s parents treated the two, it just couldn’t be the same.

I.M glazed at his Hyung who had his head down. Hyungwon was always like this, depressed and soulless after each “meeting”. It happened so frequently, but not matter how many times it happened, I.M would never know how to comfort the older one. Each time Hyungwon’s shoulders shagged a little bit more, each time Hyungwon’s eyes would turn a little duller. I.M was afraid that if this kept going on, eventually Hyungwon’s eyes would turn pitch black. That was a sight nobody wanted to see.

Just when I.M was debating on what to do, he felt the couch sink.

“They won’t give me a drink!” Minhyuk threw a tantrum, “They laughed and asked what a nine year old was doi