Minho slowly kicks his soccer ball along the empty field, head low. Another day of practice and teammates who praise him, even act like his friend, but where are they now? They leave, they talk about his poor playing skills behind his back. They aren’t real friends. Minho mopes around, lingering at the high school field. 

 

Around the corner of the school building, hidden by shade and bushes, Minho finds schoolmates. He recognized the two easily, heart fluttering and smile he had lost back. Lee Jinki, the third year is leaning against the wall, laughing. Kim Jonghyun, the second year is goofing off, making the hyung laugh.

 

Minho rubs his short hair, lanky arms flailing. He wonders if he could go say hi. They seemed to be the only schoolmates that spoke to him like he was a real person since entering high school, and it’s a lie high school is great, whoever said it should be hung. Maybe they just hated soccer, and somehow that would be cool with Minho – great even. 

 

Minho watches the older two, their hands linking together, eyes glancing around quickly before they kiss, lips meeting. Minho blinks hard, foot stumbling on the ball under his shoe. 

 

Minho picks up his ball and runs away.

 

 

-

 

 

 

Weeks go by, months even, Minho watching and observing the two older boys even more now, curious and mortified at the same time. Does anyone else know? Is he the only one in on the secret? Is he missing something and the two showing such affection towards each other is okay? Loving a boy is okay?

 

So Minho wonders. He watches, sees their contact, lips meet in more hidden kisses.

 

With time, he releases nights when he’s alone in bed, his thoughts are drawn to the older boys as his hand moves into his pants, eyes closing.

 

He hates it, it scares him. He loves it, it makes him feel alive. 

 

It’s not fair the two are happy. Not fair Minho is left with a heavy load of responsibly to carry on his shoulders, expectations expected to be met at any price, friends who aren’t really friends.

 

He hates it.

 

 

-

 

 

 

Minho stares, books dropped as gasps fill the room he thought to be empty. Both older schoolmates try to separate quickly, clothes tussled, red lips swollen.

 

“Don’t tell,” Jonghyun says as Jinki zips up his open pants.

 

Minho wonders if that’s a threat rather than a pleading request. Minho wonders if he should or not. That would break the two up, they wouldn’t be together anymore, wouldn’t make him feel left out – make them feel as miserable as Choi Minho feels on the inside.

 

Minho could take it away from them. 

 

Maybe he should.