02
It does happen
Jinki sat upstairs in Minho’s quiet bedroom, staring at the small back turned to him in the bed. Jinki had finally gotten Minho to calm down enough to get dressed and in bed under warming covers, but he made it very clear he didn’t want Jinki touching him, so he didn’t. He had offered to call someone, anyone who could help; call his mom if that’s what he really did want as the two were still alone in the younger’s home, but that hysteric, distressed look in wide brown eyes told Jinki he wanted anything but that. It was such an unsettling look, so unlike the friend he knew.
Once Minho had curled up in bed, Jinki sat against a wall without a word, stubby fingers picking at the drying wet of is sweater. They stayed like that for some time, while Jinki tried to go over what could have happened to his friend. Jinki knew Minho had been out of town for a long weekend, but what could have been so bad? Nothing made sense.
“Minho. What happened?” Jinki finally asked, voice barely above a whisper. He wasn’t even sure Minho would have heard him, and didn’t think Minho had the longer he didn’t reply.
“Nothing happened, hyung.” Minho shifted in his bed, blanked snuggled over narrow shoulders, voice much too tiny for his usually loud friend. “I’m fine.. just a little sick.”
“You call that fine? What happened in the bathroom?” Jinki rubbed his face, tired and frustrated, though it really wasn’t Minho’s fault. “Minho..” Jinki spoke cautiously, “Why are you hurting yourself?”
“I’m not,” Minho quickly defended, long legs kicking out over the bed. His harsher tone softened though, “I just need to get clean,” he whispered, “I can’t seem to get clean, no matter what I do.”
That didn’t make sense, Minho was scrubbed so clean he had been bleeding. It looked like hurting himself, but Jinki guessed that the times his own clumsiness got the better of him someone might think he hurt himself. Maybe Jinki wasn’t sure what he saw.
“What dos- ya,” Minho talked quietly, like he wasn’t directly asking Jinki. He strained to hear, noting that old speech impairment Minho had when he was younger, one he told Jinki he was teased for and teachers tried to always correct him. Why would he be talking like that again? The lisp thick and pronunciations heavy against a deepened voice due to puberty. “What do you do.. When you feels dirty all the way on the inshide..”
“Minho..”
“I don’t know what to do.”
“I can help you.”
“You can’t… no ones- no one can.”
Jinki wasn’t sure, but Minho’s voice broke like he was crying. Jinki’s stomach twisted in knots. He didn’t know what to do to help his friend - he wasn’t even sure what had happened in the first place. A fight? Was he fighting with his teammates? Was he being bullied? Jinki knew a thing or two about feeling excluded and left out. Minho never seemed the type to fall into those situations, always helpful and playful, someone hard to hate. But maybe someone was being mean – really mean.
Before Jinki could press further, there was a quiet knock at the door and Minho’s mother opened it to peek inside the room, showing it wasn’t just the two of them in the house anymore. She was pulling a scarf off and still looked a bit chilled from the outdoors. Her smile faded once she noticed Minho in bed. “Minho?” she used an old term of endearment, “Baby, are you okay?”
Jinki watched Minho stiffen and try to keep the shaking from his voice, “I’m fine, mom. Jusht- just tired. I’m going to bed early.”
It was painful, watching Minho so obviously flinch and tense at his mother’s question. “Still have a sore throat?” She glanced at Jinki, worried gaze enough to know this had been going on a couple days now.
It took Minho a moment to reply, voice still uncharacteristically small, “Yes.”
Jinki shared a look with Minho’s mother before he forced a smile, “I think I overworked him tonight.” Jinki forced out a short laugh and got up to gather his things.
Minho’s mother smiled, looking tired. “He’ll be fine.” She looked back at Minho. “I’ll bring you some more medicine, okay?”
Still smiling, Jinki glanced at Minho to find him pulling the covers over his head with a sniff. He fought to keep smiling as he turned back to Minho’s mother in the doorway. He grabbed his things, quickly shoving them in his bag and stepping out with Minho’s mother, door closed behind him.
Jinki shouldn’t have stayed, but when Minho’s mother had kindly offered a snack before he left, Jinki couldn’t respectfully decline. He sat at the table, munching on his food, though it was much harder to swallow than he had though it would be. He thought of just walking out when she disappeared to give Minho the medicine she had picked up while she was out, but before Jinki could make a decision, she was back. He kept smiling and slowly ate while chatting with Minho’s mother, more about what was going on in his life than what was going on in Minho’s. She smiled when he told her his good grades lately, or how his parents’ bakery shop was doing – just the usual conversation he had with, well, anyone.
Jinki sometimes wondered what it would be like to have a mother like Minho’s, the type that stayed at home instead of worked. He wondered what it would be like to have a mother around all the time while only a father worked. Maybe it would be annoying at his age, not enough privacy, but he’s not sure. He hasn’t experienced it.
“Home.”
Jinki jumped, almost choking on his food when Minho’s older brother called from the hallway, returning home from college class activities no doubt. He walked tiredly into the kitchen, dropping a backpack on a counter and passing Jinki, stealing some of the food off his plate. Jinki would usually mind with the type of appetite he had, if people started picking away at his food, but tonight he didn’t mind. He was grateful in fact. He could leave sooner and not embarrassingly throw up the food in front of Minho’s mother.
“Where’s Minho?” Minseok asked, looking around while chewing the food he took.
Jinki stayed silent, letting Minho’s mother speak instead. “He went to bed early. He’s still not feeling well.”
“What?” Minseok made a face, like he was annoyed and grabbed more food from Jinki’s plate, who leaned back offering it up freely. “He’s been weird since he got home.”
“He had a busy weekend with friends. You should know about that better than anyone.” She turned from her cleaning to give Minseok a look. It turned slightly threatening once she spotted Jinki’s emptying plate and Minseok chewing while Jinki wasn’t.
Minseok turned away from the look, but spoke like it didn’t phase him, “No, this is different.” Once the boys’ mother turned back to her dishes washing, Minseok stole the remainder of Jinki’s food, of course giving a look to the younger teenager if it was okay because Minseok wasn’t that oblivious and rude, but Jinki allowed it, giving a nod. Then Minseok was quickly disappearing out of the kitchen before his mom could turn back.
Watching Minseok made Jinki genuinely smile and forget a moment about everything. He liked Minseok in a sort of way you look up to someone older. He was smart, the family’s pride and joy, which Jinki could relate to, though he was the one an only child. Minseok was tall, like the Choi men, and it’s not like Jinki was particularly short, he had a decent height on him, taller than both his parents by now, but the Choi’s made Jinki feel short. And here he still wasn’t over the fact that when he met Minho he was shorter, but puberty shot the younger up like a beanpole into the gangly teenager he was today.
The older Choi son was a little on the lean built side with all the exercise and sports he was into, like the Choi family often were –especially soccer activities. He was considered quite handsome and popular if the girls and groups of friends he had seen Minseok around was anything to go by. His between Minseok was less than with Minho; just nineteen to Jinki’s barely eighteen, so it still confused him why he was so much closer to the younger of the two. Maybe it fell on personalities; they were brothers, a lot alike in some regards, but nothing alike in others. Minho almost clinged to Jinki, literally and figuratively, Minseok didn’t cling.
“You still hungry?” a mother asked, facing Jinki now and clearly noticing Minseok’s thievery.
“No,” Jinki continued smiling, “I’m full, actually.”
Jinki got up and bowed as he thanked her and said his goodbyes to Minho’s mother, while slinging his bag over his shoulder. He had told her he would let himself out, which he was doing now, slipping on his shoes at the entry with the door leaning open. After he stepped out, Jinki listened as the door swung closed, eyes staring wide while Minho screamed and Minseok’s yelled in a panic. “I was only messing with him! I don’t kno-”
The door clicked shut, muffling any other noise.
He debated if he should try and get back in, but the longer no one came to the door and no sounds were heard from Minho, the more sure he was he couldn’t possibly, and his phone buzzed from his bag and he knew it was parents hoping he was getting home to study, like he should be by now. So much more important than tutoring someone else. Jinki knew it wouldn’t be some friends trying to get him to come out for a good time, like most young men his age. So he sighed heavily, stumbling through the unlatched front gate of the residence, and he pulled his thick sweater closer in the cold weather with a near shiver. He made the decision to walk home in the dark, not sure what to make of the night at all.
Jinki called Minho’s cell when he got home, but as expected there was no answer.
He didn’t leave a message.
Jinki didn’t get much sleep that night. He just ended up tossing and turning, mind refusing to leave his friend and his unusual behavior.
______________
For the next week, Jinki stood several days outside Minho’s school waiting with a smile, and each time Minho walked out alone and looking smaller by the day. He brushed Jinki off with excuses of places he needed to be or things he needed to do. Minho had even been canceling their every-other-day study sessions since that Monday night. He wasn’t returning Jinki’s calls or texts either.
Jinki felt useless watching Minho pull further into himself, no longer smiling or horsing around with friends. It was like the Minho Jinki grew up with was gone. Dead. Someone or something had hurt the boy so deeply, he was a walking hollow shell of his former self.
Spring Break quickly rolled around. Jinki spent his time at home playing video games or at his parents’ shop. He didn’t know what he could do otherwise, as any contact with his friend still hadn’t come during the break. If Minho wouldn’t talk to him he couldn’t force it.
______________
While walking home by himself in the nearly dark, freezing night, having spent all the daylight wasting time wandering the town and trying not to think about Minho or what he could be up to for the break, a car slowly stopped beside Jinki. He recognized the car as belonging to the Choi Family. The family really hadn’t left town for the break. Jinki had a little hope that was the reason Minho hadn’t contacted him.
He waited as the passenger window was lowered to find Minseok behind the wheel and quickly telling Jinki he would drive him home. Jinki didn’t hesitate or decline the offer, not with Minseok serious expression.
Minutes into the drive, Minseok finally asked, “What happened to Minho.” It was almost demand, like Jinki somehow knew and wasn’t telling him.
Jinki wouldn’t look at Minseok, “I don’t know.” He sounded honest, though slightly worried.
Minseok softened, “Did he say anything the last time you were over? He..” Minseok paused, taking in a slow breath while the car slowed. “He freaked out when I jumped on him.” He turned to look at Jinki once the car stopped at a light. “He won’t let me touch him. He won’t let anyone touch him,” his voice grew quieter, “Mom can, but barely.”
In the quiet car, Jinki could hear Minseok’s grip tighten around the steering wheel. “Dad’s frustrated. It’s starting to show in front of Minho.” Minseok sighed tiredly, “I just.. I don’t know what to do. I thought maybe you knew something.”
Jinki chewed on his lip, not sure if he should tell Minseok what happened that night in the bathroom. Once the car started moving again and Minseok’s eyes were off him, Jinki quietly spoke, “That night.. he was in the shower for almost two hours.” Jinki couldn’t look at Minseok. “He was scrubbing himself so clean he was bleeding. That’s all I know, honest.”
Minseok made a sound, but didn’t say anything. The rest of the short drive was quiet, and Jinki thanked Minseok and quietly apologized for not being much help. He climbed out of the car, turning to look at Minseok before he closed the door.
“I’m going to kill them,” Minseok was so quiet, Jinki thought maybe it was only in his head, “Whoever did this to him.”
Jinki softly laughed, it was awkward and forced, but he smiled once Minseok turned to him with a tiny one. Jinki leaned into the car a bit, taking what he saw as dark humor a step further, “Let me know, eh? I wanna help.”
Their smiles faded the longer Jinki stood outside the car with nothing being said. Jinki finally said goodbye and shut the door. He watched Minseok drive off, worried about Minho. Worried about the whole Choi Family now.
______________
At the end of an uneventful Spring Break, Jinki had been surprised to see Minho sitting on the doorstep of his apartment as the elevator doors slip open. Fumbling with his keys to open the front door, Jinki had quickly told Minho to come in, kicking off his own shoes at the entry to shuffle into slippers that squeaked across wood floors as he hurried for the kitchen. He grabbed a drink, while Minho sat on the couch, slow in even taking his shoes off and make it into the home.
Minho was no longer sitting curled up into himself, but still he was hunched over lacking that confidence he used to radiate. Big eyes were lowered, small face that had always looked soft and squishy, as if little bone structure, appearing swollen and pale. What one might expect if someone was down with a cold or something. Maybe that’s all it was, a virus that was bringing Minho down. He would kick it sooner or later. He always did.
Jinki set the glass down on the coffee table and quietly sat next to Minho, who was staring off at nothing. It was a look becoming much too familiar to Jinki. He wanted it to stop. “You feel better?” Jinki cringed at his stupid question. Really, he wasn’t sure what to say.
“Yes.” It was an obvious lie. But Minho forced a smile anyway.
“Aren’t you hot?” Jinki asked, noticing Minho still wearing his big winter coat inside his home. He was practically covered from head to toe. He knew Minho was a cold person by nature; much thinner and taller than Jinki’s average height and stocky build with a slight belly weight, but his home felt warmer than usual, almost like it wasn’t cold outside anymore, and he had stripped off his own jacket and layers already.
When Jinki reached out to touch Minho’s arm, like he would have normally done before, Minho suddenly shoved him hard. Jinki’s arm hit the drink he had brought Minho, making the glass spill all over the floor in a loud clank while Jinki stumbled to the floor with it.
Minho looked down at Jinki, eyes narrowed and full of an anger so much more intense than Jinki had ever seen out of the teenager. It didn’t last long though. He was soon apologizing and trying to help Jinki up, expression soft again.
“Sorry hyung. I didn’t..”
“It’s fine.” Jinki assured, before rushing to the kitchen for a towel. When he returned, Minho was now curled up sitting on the couch, face buried in his knees. Jinki silently cleaned up the mess and sat back down beside the younger. They just sat there, neither speaking a word. Fidgeting, Jinki went over the things he could try saying, but none of them seemed right.
“Do.. do I look like I like guys or something?”
Minho’s sudden question was muffled, so Jinki wasn’t sure he heard right, but it startled him, small palms rubbing rough against thick thighs. He blurted out, “Of course not.” He laughed humorlessly, heartbeat possibly sped up, not because of Minho but because of what that question dug out of a buried part of himself. No guy liked guys, obviously. That’s absurd. Fear burned inside him, that Minho was about to accuse him of something he never wanted to face. Was it obvious, was Jinki giving off bad impressions. It couldn't possibly.
Minho only whispered, “They said I did.”
“What?” Jinki froze, first instinct relief, then alarm because it was a clue to his friends sudden changes. He almost grabbed hold of Minho, but he restrained himself. “Who said that?”
“No one.” Minho looked up with another one of his forced smiles, mismatched eyes creasing. “I better go home,” Minho looked around for a clock, “I’m needed soon.”
Jinki knew it was another lie, but he also knew his mother would be home soon, actually off work early, and didn’t want her pestering Minho in any way. Though a tiny part of the thought of trying to beat it out of Minho appealed to Jinki, grab his small head in a headlock and shake him, he knew he couldn’t make Minho talk to him if he didn’t want to.
Are you being bulled by someone? He thought that’s what he should ask. It seemed the most likely answer, though still Minho didn’t seem the type to be bullied by anymore, not seriously so. Not in a manner that made him react like he had been.
His friend had always been softhearted, albeit a bit loud and outgoing. He always thought of Minho like that more than himself. So what could just snuff that person out?
Jinki led Minho to the door, smiling the whole way. Once Minho slipped on his shoes and stepped out, he turned, smiling almost like he used to.
“Thanks hyung.”
“Yeah, anytime.” Jinki smiled big, watching Minho’s face light up the tiniest bit. His stomach lurched. He missed that friendly face so much. He missed Minho so much. When Minho left Jinki’s sight, disappearing into the elevator down the hall, he closed the door and leaned heavily against it. “Minho-ya,” he sighed, staring at the floor, “How do I help you?”
______________
Later that night, while Jinki was sitting at his desk studying, his phone went off. He reached over to grab it, quickly flicking it open to see who had text him. His heart stopped a beat when he saw it was from Minho.
Message from Choi Minho:
Someday I’ll be clean again, hyung. ^^ Please don’t worry.
Jinki stared at it the text, unsure what to say. He still didn’t know what that meant.
‘I’ll be here no matter what.’ Jinki sent his message over thirty minutes later, still unsure if he said the right thing. But Jinki meant what he said. He would be.
Minho did not responed to the text.
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