~Chapter Five~

After I hung up with my mom, I found myself staring down at the remains of my breakfast. The white noise around me had slowly faded back into the rambunctious laughter and jeers of the boys competing to eat the fastest. I don't know why I was so distraught. I hadn't seen my father since my parents divorced, back when I was a little tot. I didn't even remember his face, aside from the studded blue ring he always wore around his left middle finger.

Why remember that? I dunno; as a kid, I probably thought something as shiny as that was the most appealing thing about him. I stood up, forgoing my plate and leftovers, moving away from the noise. I didn't feel like talking, but as I caught Jimin's eyes, who had noticed me leave first, I said, "I don't feel so good. I'm going to go lay down." 

My words were met with a concerned shift of his features, and I brought the back of my hand to my head to emphasize what I meant. I smiled softly, reassuring him in silence, and then turned to pad down the hall, disappearing into my room.

~~~

The next few hours I spent on my back, fingers drumming my stomach lightly as I continuously thought over what my mother had said. He'd had a heart attack, which wasn't uncommon for his age. Calling it worry would take it too far. For my standards, I have to be close to someone, share some emotional bond with them, to actually feel worried. My dad and I weren't even remotely close. I talked to him like I'd talk to my grade school classmates after years of being apart; how's it going, how's it been, are you living comfortably, etc. Stuff like that over email, every few months. It just felt like having an occasional pen pal. 

I sighed, conflicted; the moral side of me wanted to go and visit him in the hospital, while my careless piece of mind begged me to stay in bed all day. My lip was caught between my teeth, toying it as I mindlessly twiddled my thumbs and thought over my options again and again.

"Rei?" A voice outside my door. I leaned up, elbows supporting me against the bed. It was Jimin. He probably came to check on me. I didn't bother standing up, rather resorting to beckoning him in on his own. 

He walked in with the same face of concern he sported earlier, shutting the door behind him as his gaze travelled up to meet my curious eyes. "Everything good?" He finally asked, and I motioned him to sit on the end of my bed. I laid back down fingers lacing behind my head as I quirked a lip and wondered how to answer him. 

"For now, yeah." He looked puzzled by my response, and I only then remembered I had feigned not feeling well earlier. "Just had a headache." His mouth formed an 'o' and he looked around my plain room quietly, then turning back to me, disbelief in his eyes.

"Just a headache?" I sat up and pulled my knees to my chest, pondering whether I should just tell him the truth. The only thing holding me back was he'd worry about it. But he wouldn't understand; none of them would. So far as I knew, all of the boys grew up with a father in the picture. They would all tell me to go and visit, because it's what they would do. But I wasn't like them.

I caved after he patted my socked foot, a pleading glint in his orbs. "My mom called me during breakfast." Revelation passed over his features, and I gently shooed his hand away from my toes.

"That's who you were on the phone with? I couldn't hear you over everyone else." Ohhhh, so he had noticed me on the phone. Haha, I wonder what sort of expression I was making. I figured they were too absorbed in their antics to notice— in which I sort of didn't want them to notice at all. But I suppose he'd been attentive at the time. Jimin then had a 'go on' kind of expressi