”I don’t know if…” Jongin’s voice trails off when his tongue nearly twists itself into knots. ”I mean, I don’t know if you...never mind.”

Baekhyun audibly exhales. ”Don’t,” he says. ”Tell me.”

Jongin genuinely worries his heart might burst. His vision is already starting to blur and he wants nothing more than to turn away so Baekhyun won’t have to see his splotchy face, but he can’t bring himself to move a muscle.

”Okay, but,” Jongin chokes out, ”I just want you to know that I never, ever meant-”

”Cut the bull and tell me already,” Baekhyun snaps.

”No, seriously,” Jongin retorts, ”I didn’t-”

”Jongin,” Baekhyun says, voice dropping two octaves, ”if what I just heard is true and you don’t tell me in two seconds, I’m going to you up so badly you won’t be able to recall saying anything, do you understand?”

On the third floor, the sound of chairs being dragged across the floor barely makes it above the howling winds. Jongin seriously hopes that it’s just the janitor as he runs a hand down his face, which is already hot to the touch.

Jongin forces himself to speak when the silence nearly drives him to tears. ”It wasn’t even supposed to happen, but it did, and I just—” He cuts himself off when he sees the spark of fury in Baekhyun’s eyes. ”I let him me and I ended up with his goddamn kid, okay?!”

For a second, all that's heard is Baekhyun audibly exhaling from his spot four feet away.

Even though Baekhyun isn’t saying a word, Jongin easily notices his eyebrow twitching as he processes what he’s hearing. The rain is coming down so hard that Jongin figures the roof will cave in any second, which would be fine with him. Because, considering how much his chest is constricting, drowning right here and now doesn't sound all too bad.

It’s not until they’ve been silent for nearly a full minute that Baekhyun opens his mouth. ”And when was this?” he asks in a deflated tone.

Jongin swallows the lump in his throat. ”Nine years ago,” he mutters. ”Like a year after I started out.” 

Baekhyun is silent as he grumbles something incoherent under his breath. Jongin feels a spark of electricity shoot up his spine when Baekhyun merely sends him a flat look. The fact that he’s unable to make any sense of the glint in Baekhyun’s eyes only makes Jongin’s stomach churn that much more. 

It’s not until the printer automatically shuts off with a loud clanking noise that Baekhyun shakes his head. ”It's not…God, quit ing around,” he growls. He paces back and forth in the cramped room until he sends Jongin a look. ”You’re just-”

”It’s true,” Jongin blurts out, seconds before he pulls out his phone. "Look, it's...I can prove it."

Ignoring all the missed calls and texts from his mother asking him where he is and to come home right this instant, Jongin prays that his trembling fingers won’t make him drop his phone as he pulls up the photo she sent him last week. Jungah’s smiley self greets him, and Jongin forces himself to turn his phone around before he can change his mind.

Baekhyun’s expression remains unreadable as he stares at the screen. A lock of bright red hair falls in his eyes as his gaze flickers back and forth, presumably between Jungah’s large, doe eyes and elf ears, for nearly a full minute. He isn’t saying anything, but Jongin figures that he doesn’t need to, mostly because just about anybody would be able to tell that Chanyeol and Jungah are related from a hundred miles away. 

It’s not until Baekhyun wordlessly walks towards the nearest wall that Jongin wholeheartedly expects him to punch a hole right through it. However, Baekhyun only runs a hand through his hair as he leans against the door.

”But that’s...it’s not right, it doesn’t…it doesn’t make any ing sense,” Baekhyun drawls, mostly to himself, with his face buried his face in his hands. ”You didn’t…you’ve never said anything about having a…ing hell, man. ing hell.” 

Another clap of thunder shakes the building, but neither of them flinch.

Despite the sharp pain in his chest, Jongin has to remind himself to breathe when he feels himself growing lightheaded. He tries his best to tune out Baekhyun’s low cursing as he shoves his phone in his pocket, all while tightening his grip on the papers in his hand.

”This is just…” Baekhyun’s lower lip quivers as his eyes scurry around the room. ”God, it’s just…I can’t, I can’t with this.” He leaves his reports on the floor as he pushes the door open and steps outside.

The sound of the door slamming shut echoes for seconds. Something tingles at the back of Jongin's throat, almost like he’s just gotten off an intense roller coaster ride, and he has to force himself to move when the ceiling lights automatically switch off. 

___

The hallways are dead silent and there isn't a soul in sight at this hour. In the darkness, he barely avoids stubbing his toe on a table while he finagles himself through the maze of cubicles until he reaches his boss' office. He slams his report on her large desk before turning to leave. 

A sudden sound nearly has Jongin jumping out of his own skin. It sort of sounds like something crashing and breaking against a solid surface on the third floor. Since his head is spinning too much right now to worry about office ghosts, he dismisses it by scrambling towards the elevators.

11:03 P.M

Jongin curses himself for choosing not to bring his raincoat, because he barely makes it three steps before he's wholly drenched. He’s just glad that the garage is less than twenty feet away, and he prays that he won’t trip and fall face first into a puddle of dirty rain water as he hurries down the road. In his peripheral, he catches a glimpse of flashing neon lights, but Jongin would be lying if he said that another hangover was at the top of his priority list right now.

Using his briefcase as a shield against the rain, Jongin flies towards the metal door to the garage, which he manages to slam shut right before a clap of thunder can blow out his eardrums. 

As he curses the lack of lighting, Jongin feels something tug at the back of his chest. It almost feels like a thousand tons have been lifted off his shoulders, and he feels like he’s walking on air as he sees his car come into view. In the dark, it’s almost entirely camouflaged by the gray walls. 

Pretty much the whole office building has parked their cars in the garage due to the weather, even though majority of the parking spaces are empty by now. Even though Jongin has always found being alone while surrounded by a bunch of cars slightly unnerving, he wishes that the garage was crammed when he notices a sole car parked in the far right corner. At first, he wonders why there isn’t two of them, until he recalls that Chanyeol and Baekhyun decided to pool their money to buy themselves a car of their own a week after they announced that they were moving in together.

Jongin grazes something at the bottom of his coat pocket, and he nearly screams in relief when he retrieves an old cigarette that must have fallen out of its pack at some point. It’s slightly bent and crushed to smithereens, but he manages to light it. Come to think of it, he has no idea why he’s rushing, because now that he’s safe from the rain, he has nothing waiting for him at home.

Leaning against the hood of his car, Jongin takes a drag. He’s surprised that he’s able to get anything in his lungs with his windpipe on the verge of closing up. It’s so quiet that he can hear the tip of his cigarette crackling when he inhales again. It fills him with a dull loneliness that he’s far too used to at this point.

The next thing Jongin knows, he’s reminiscing Sehun’s warmth and the minty scent of his skin. With the tobacco surging through his head, Jongin thinks he can smell Sehun’s strong cologne in the cloud of smoke that leaves his lips. But even so, he’s unable to recall a single thing from last night no matter how hard he tries. Jongin takes a frustrated drag as he tries not to reminisce Sehun’s strong arms holding him in place a few hours before they’d wake up in the same bed.

Suddenly, Baekhyun’s voice floods his head. Even though Jongin has learned to never trust Jongdae’s gossip hungry self, a part of him sort of hopes that Jongdae is right. 

Jongin swallows. If Chanyeol was never chosen to be his mentor, if he never got into this goddamn mess, would he have noticed Sehun sooner?

What if Sehun was chosen to be his mentor, instead?

Would things be any different?

Would they be better?

The smell of fresh rainwater is all Jongin registers as he curses under his breath. As if things weren't already going great, it suddenly hits him that his car is on the verge of running out of gas. Jongin tries to shove the mental image of Jungah’s Rilakkuma doll in the front seat out of his head as he buries his face in his hands.

Chucking his lit cigarette on the ground, Jongin reaches into his pocket for his car keys. He takes back his promise of not taking any sleeping pills, because he knows that he’s going to need at least twenty if he’s planning on relaxing tonight.

Jongin is about to press down on the button when the garage door is swung open so forcefully that it collides with the wall with a deafening clang. It doesn’t take him long to figure out who it must be, and he hurriedly unlocks the doors to avoid having to make awkward small talk with Chanyeol and Baekhyun. 

Distant footsteps fill the air, and there’s something about how frantic they sound that makes Jongin shiver. 

”Don’t get in yet.”

Jongin whirls around at the sudden voice, which echoes for seconds. He finds himself bolted to the ground when he sees Chanyeol’s tall frame rounding the corner. His steps are rapid and persistent, and Jongin fights the urge to take a step back when he notices that Chanyeol is coming right for him.

It’s not until Chanyeol is illuminated by the dim glow of the ceiling lights that Jongin actually gets a good look at his face. It’s unreadable and almost foreign, yet there’s something about it that has a shiver shooting up Jongin’s spine.

Chanyeol stops six feet away from Jongin’s car. To Jongin’s surprise, Chanyeol's briefcase isn’t in his hands and he isn’t even wearing his coat. His silver hair is tousled and the aggravated glint in his eyes is nearly blinding.

Jongin wraps his coat around his torso when a cold gust of wind passes. A blast of Chanyeol's cologne fills the space between them, but it provides Jongin with little comfort when Chanyeol sends him a glare so malign that he almost cowers.

”I didn’t know you were getting a new guy,” Jongin blurts out when the silence grows deafening.

Chanyeol scowls. ”You’re just full of bright ideas, aren’t you?” he snarls. 

Jongin blinks. ”What are you-”

”Act like a ing adult for once and spare me the talk,” Chanyeol seethes, shoulders trembling and breathing ragged. ”You think you get a free pass to ruin other people’s lives just because you decided to ruin your own? Is that really what’s going on here?”

Jongin tightens his grip on his car keys. He doesn’t get a chance to respond before Chanyeol chucks something right at him. Jongin finds himself picking up the wrinkled piece of paper, which he quickly recognizes to be a receipt. Amid the fog in his head, all he’s able to make out is a price of twenty thousand dollars, a bunch of faded words wiped out by the rain, and a street address he recalls seeing at some point during his trip to Manhattan. 

Jongin isn’t even aware of how fast his heart is racing until he looks up and sees the enraged spark dancing in Chanyeol’s eyes. As much as he wants to scramble behind the wheel and lock the doors, he’s unable to move a muscle when Chanyeol speaks.

”Last day to cancel was Monday,” Chanyeol hisses. ”Prove you’re not a complete ing disappointment for once and hand half of it over right now.”

Eyes flickering back and forth between the paper in his hands and Chanyeol’s unfaltering gaze, Jongin swallows the lump in his throat. The tobacco sticking to his tongue nearly makes him nauseous. ”I can’t,” he blurts out. ”I mean, it’s…I can’t.”

”So that’s your plan, then?” Chanyeol exclaims, throwing his hands in the air. He shakes his head with the most humorless chuckle Jongin has ever heard in his life. "You really are one-" 

”I didn’t mean to,” Jongin blurts out. ”I mean, I didn’t think…I didn’t think he’d—” He cuts himself off when Chanyeol takes a step closer. ”I had to, okay? It was-”

”Did you ever stop to think?” Chanyeol retorts. ”Did you ever stop to think about how this might affect me? Us? Everyone?” He clenches his jaw in anger. ”You’re just all talk and no brains, always so goddamn impulsive,” he grumbles. ”I’ve always, always hated that about you.”

Jongin tries squashing the sob traveling up his throat. ”I had to.” He tightens his grip on his briefcase. ”I had to get it off my-”

Jongin barely hears the rest of his sentence before a low ringing fills his ears. It takes him a minute to register the sharp pain spreading through his back head as his spine collides with the cement wall. A part of him wants to ask Chanyeol to hold him, especially after he’s grabbed by the tie and yanked forward, until he’s mere inches from Chanyeol’s face.

”Tell me,” Chanyeol says, voice laced with old tobacco. ”That darling of yours, she can’t be that old, can she?” He doesn’t even wait for Jongin to respond. ”What exactly do you do with her when you’re always out and about so late?”

Despite his car being less than a foot away, Jongin gives up on trying to reach for the door handle when Chanyeol only tightens his grip on his collar, effectively holding him in place and making him unable to move an inch. A part of Jongin doesn’t want to respond when his temples throb, but he ends up opening his mouth when Chanyeol’s eyes flash with fury.

”She’s…she’s at school,” Jongin croaks, not even bothering to sound convincing. 

Sure enough, Chanyeol chuckles low in his throat. ”Not all day.”

Jongin fights an impulse to knee Chanyeol in the stomach, but his legs won’t obey him. ”She’s with my mother, okay?” he huffs. ”She has to, you know I never get the time to-”

”You know, I gotta give you one thing,” Chanyeol says after shoving Jongin away until he collides with the wall again. ”When you lost your like a little about not being ready to be a father and whatnot, I didn’t actually think you’d be right.” He runs a hand through his hair with a smirk. ”Maybe you should’ve gone through with it, would’ve spared us this mess-”

”At least I ing tried,” Jongin wails, trying to ignore the soreness traveling up and down his back. ”And you can forget that I’m paying a single nickel for your goddamn wedding.”

Even though Jongin halfheartedly expected it, he still hears himself groan when Chanyeol immediately delivers another blow to the right side of his face. Amid the throbbing in his cheekbone, Jongin barely registers Chanyeol’s sharp heel colliding with his shin until he’s mere inches from the cold, hard ground. The rain quickly seeps into his skin, but Jongin can’t bring himself to roll onto his back.

”Are you proud of yourself?” Chanyeol growls, not even bothering to keep his voice down as he tugs on his hair. ”You’re no dancer, you’re no father, hell, you’re nobody.” He growls under his breath. ”You’re a goddamn nobody, I hope you know that.”

By some miracle, Jongin manages to flop onto his back without making the pain in his spine worse. From his spot on the rock hard ground, he can feel the vibrations of Chanyeol’s shoes pacing back and forth three feet away, all while blood rushes in his ears. If he had the energy, Jongin figures that he would crawl underneath his car to hide that Chanyeol wouldn’t have to see him bawling his eyes out like this.

How pathetic.

”I didn’t mean to,” Jongin sobs, ignoring the pain that spreads through his head with each word. ”Any of this, all of this, I didn’t mean to, I was just trying to make things right-" 

Jongin's sentence ends in a low whine when he’s harshly pulled to his feet, seconds before he’s slammed into the wall so forcefully that he prays his spine won’t shatter. 

Chanyeol wastes no time in grabbing a fistful of Jongin’s tousled locks until their faces are inches apart. ”All bark and no bite, as usual,” he chuckles, ignoring Jongin’s mewls of pain. ”Y’know, if you didn’t already look like death, I could kill you right now.”

With his scalp going numb, Jongin gives up on freeing himself from Chanyeol’s grasp as he lets the tears flow down his cheeks. 

”It doesn’t have to be like this,” Jongin says as loudly as his tightening throat will allow him to. ”Why can’t we just forget that this ever happened.” He winces when Chanyeol tightens his grip on his hair. ”I’ve always wanted us to be friends.”

Chanyeol is silent for a minute. ”If you think I’m interested in befriending some irresponsible who can’t tell right from wrong, you’re insane,” he says. ”Let’s just hope that that darling of yours won’t end up becoming anything like her father.” 

Jongin regrets it the second he does it. Despite his long lived promise of never hurting Chanyeol as long as he lives, he squashes the thought as he rubs his sore knuckles. He can only watch as Chanyeol stumbles backwards in a fit of pained growls, and, despite the fury making his head blank out, Jongin doesn’t bother defending himself when Chanyeol retaliates by kneeing him square in the stomach. For a second, Jongin hears nothing but his own ragged gasps for air after his back hits the ground once again.

Jongin's coat and suit are both entirely drenched at this point, leaving him shivering with his head inches from the tires to his car. He has to rest his cheek against the wet asphalt when his head spins so badly that he nearly upchucks everywhere.

”Listen,” Chanyeol says after nearly a minute of silence. ”I don’t know what goes on in that head of yours, but believe me when I tell you to stay the out of my business. I never want to see or talk to you ever again, is that understood?”

From his spot on the ground, Jongin can only choke out an incoherent noise as Chanyeol looms over him like an iron wall. Getting the air knocked clean out of him must have screwed up his windpipe, since he’s unable to choke out the words no matter how hard he tries. Jongin can’t help but burst into tears when Chanyeol crouches down and grabs the sides of his face to the point of bruising.

Amid the pounding in his head, Jongin manages a meek nod before Chanyeol turns on his heel. All he hears is Chanyeol's incoherent cursing as he makes his way towards the door.

___  

The pain surging through his system must have wiped him right out, because the next thing Jongin registers is awakening to the smell of rain. It doesn't take him long to notice that Chanyeol and Baekhyun’s car is missing from its spot over in the corner. Even without rolling over, Jongin can tell that the storm has passed, but he doesn’t have the energy to lift himself off the ground as his eyes trail across the dead empty garage. His whole body has gone numb from the cold rain and he can't feel a thing save for the pain in his cheeks, which only grows when he sobs into the darkness.

Jongin rolls onto his back when his ribs ache in protest. He isn’t sure if it’s the churning in his gut, or Chanyeol’s perfume still lingering in the air, but he’s just glad that he avoids suffocating as he empties the contents of his stomach all over the ground. Despite the bile in his throat and the cramping in his biceps, Jongin reaches into his inner pocket.

Sehun’s professional face stares back at him, and Jongin doesn’t bother holding back the stream of tears that rush down his cheeks as he pulls out his phone.