Sometimes, life isn’t fair at all.

Kim Jongin sits quietly by the river, the waves hitting against the rocks softly. They whisper to him; they’re trying to comfort him in the dead of the night. His hands are digging into his coat’s front pockets, fingers curled against the fabric. His phone has been vibrating endlessly but he’s choosing to ignore the humming coming from the back pocket of his jeans.

Jongin releases a sigh, his breath visible in the cold.

He’s trying to be optimistic but if he could be honest with himself, optimism was slipping out of his fingers like sand. He’s trying to reassure himself, the small voice in the back of his head whispering to him, telling him that everything is going to be alright. He laughs under his breath; he can’t decide whether he wants to listen to that tiny voice or not.

It’s not that Jongin isn’t optimistic. Generally, he is. He’s a pretty happy-go-lucky guy most of the time, it takes quite a lot to tick him off or to make him remotely sad. He smiles and he smiles a lot.

Just like how he smiled when he finds himself staring into Sehun’s dark orbs, the younger male telling him repeatedly that he’s sorry that he lost his iPod. Sehun’s face is panic-stricken because the tanned male says nothing and just smiles. Jongin ruffles the younger’s messy hair and mumbles a clumsy, it’s okay, Sehunnie.

Nevermind that it was a gift from his mother, Jongin thinks, because these things just happen. It’s not like Jongin could control whatever happens around him.

Jongin smiles a lot.

Just like how he smiled when Kyungsoo called him a few hours ago, telling him that he would have to take a rain-check on their dinner plans because he had to go through some rehearsals for the upcoming showcase at school. Jongin smiles through the phone, but Kyungsoo knows that the guy’s disappointed, sad even. Jongin mumbles another it’s okay under his breath and hangs up before Kyungsoo could launch into another string of apology.

Just like how he smiled when he realized Chanyeol had stained his favorite shirt with an unimaginable ugly stain that looks almost impossible to remove. Chanyeol had grinned sheepishly, apologizing over and over with the promise of getting him a new shirt hanging at the tip of his tongue. Jongin smiles and mumbles, it’s fine, hyung, I can get a new one and Chanyeol briefly hugs the younger male, still promising to replace the ruined shirt.

Sometimes, life isn’t fair at all, but it’s not always his fault.

Just like how it wasn’t his fault when his 10-year-old self watches his dad walk out of the house, suitcases in tow and his mum is yelling at him to get lost, don’t come back you cheating scum! His mum is hysterical and he only manages to crawl over to her, crawling into her lap and burying his face into the crook of her neck while his older brother, Joonmyeon, looks out the open the door and realizes that they’re now a broken family.

His dad doesn’t look back once and Jongin doesn’t bother looking for him anymore.

It wasn’t his fault when he gets beaten up for trying to protect Baekhyun when they were 15. He stared deep into Baekhyun’s bloodshot eyes, his face hard as he shields a whimpering Baekhyun with his body, the punches and kicks raining down onto him. Because Jongin couldn’t just sit and watch the boys bully and call Baekhyun disgusting names like , scum, piece of trash and physically pushing the small boy around.

It wasn’t his fault that Baekhyun had realized his ual orientation at such a young age. It wasn’t Jongin’s fault that Baekhyun had been in a compromising position with an