Minuscule Problems

Road to Solace (Revamped)

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Arms crossed behind his head, Chanyeol stared up at the dank ceiling. Where the normally blue looked like a struggling black. Since returning he’d shut the curtains and retreated to bed. Yes, all that without showering first. Dirty him. If his mother saw she’d scream mercy, but she wasn’t home when he got in. Lucky him.

Today was supposed to be a good day. No, it wasn’t because there were no assignments due tomorrow. The rough half of the afternoon was supposed to be his to enjoy with Namjoo surrounded by the cheering of his classmates. Just two easygoing kids about to grow out of their youth spending an afternoon together on stressful schoolgrounds.

This was supposed to be a good memory for him. Instead, nothing went the way he wanted.

Stupid Sehun.

Stupid Jongin.

Chanyeol was so upset.

A knock on the door made him lift his head. It was his mother back home from the store. “How was your day, honey?”

“Fine.” He huffed.

“What are you doing lying in the dark?” she asked cracking the door open. His forty something mom, he could never remember her birthday, leaned against the threshold. Straightened hair and all and glossed with pomade so not a strand could break free, his mother stood at way below his shoulder line. Other than kitchen hobbies she obsessed over manicures and her face. The serum she used before bedtime made her face as shiny as her hair.

“Turn off the lights, mom!” Chanyeol groaned when she flicked the switch on.

“It’s so dark in here.” She commented oblivious to his darkening mood. “Turn the lights on at least.” Voice lowering as she backed out, “Kids these days…”

Frowning he eyed the door when it clicked shut. Throwing his legs over the bed he stomped over slapping the switch off returning to bed the same way, grunting as he plopped down. This time on his side and curling up. Crossing his arms across his chest he stared into the dark. His glare was heated enough to begin a fire.

The faint gleam of light sneaking in through the slit of his curtain landed on the frame to his upper left, just adjacent to his view. Chanyeol didn’t need to look to know what it was.

A photo of him and Namjoo on one of their expeditions to the beach during summer. They had been around ten. Having gotten grains of sand all over their bodies from sand castle making. A plastic green pail was abandoned on his right. A skinny, bony version of him cheekily grinned into the camera. Namjoo, beside him, so focused on her solid sand structure she hadn’t looked into the lens. 

Always like that. Between them, Chanyeol was the one looking out. Constantly veering off into the distance hoping Namjoo was right behind, besides, in front of him. It wasn’t so. Namjoo’s attention was always somewhere else.

She may be the person who engulfed his tiny universe, but he was afraid she wouldn’t reciprocate.

Best friend.

That was what she’d said. As if he could never be more. As if she could never see him as more. When Sehun had kissed her today. When Jongin walked with and sat with her in the infirmary.

The door opened again. His mother said loud and clear, “I cut up some watermelon. Come eat.”

Chanyeol ignored her. Too up in his warped mood and anger at today’s unfulfillments. He listened to the door close and continued sulking.

Kim Jongin. Oh Sehun. Those two dweebs.

The door opened again and Chanyeol’s innards exploded. “I said I don’t want to eat!”

Silence. This time when he looked up his mother glared down at him. Slapping his thigh, “How dare you yell at me? Get up!”

“Ow! Mom!” Chanyeol whined sitting up.

“Look at you! What a mess! Get up and change right now! How filthy!” she scolded. Shooing him off, “Go right now!”

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The butler had switched shifts with one of the gardeners forcing Sehun to swallow his tantrum on the way home. The butler he’d talked with previous was kneeling on a fresh bed of overturned soil when he walked down the circular driveway. It was some new plan his mother had for a batch of flowers she wanted to raise. Currently the elder was untangling a hoop of garden hose that had gotten twisted up.

“You lied!” Sehun walked up to him and screamed.

The man glanced at him. Returned to work. “You’re home, Young Master.”

Sehun’s irritation heightened. The muscles in his shoulders tightened forcing his hands to fist. “You said girls like it when a guy makes her heart flutter!”

The elder blinked like he didn’t know what Sehun was talking about. Then his eyes lit up, “Oh…is this about that girl? So, how did it go?”

Sehun’s face reddened. Angry now because he had been made a fool. “Anyway, you were wrong!”

The butler cocked his head slightly. “Why? What did you do?”

He grew hot. He wasn’t about to tell the old dude that after talking to him Sehun had gone on the internet searching how to make a girl’s heart flutter. There were many suggestions he had discovered on a forum. Many had suggested a kiss to get her attention.

“Forget it!” Sehun yelled. “You’re no help!” Swirling around he stomped toward the towering front doors. Spinning around Sehun stomped back toward the man.

He didn’t know the butler’s name, how old he was, if he had family, was he married. He had he been here his entire life. Sehun couldn’t remember a thing about the old man. Although his hair was receding, he came off as fatherly, so maybe he did have a wife at home and a kid or two that were off in college. But the butler was older and with age brought wisdom and experience.

Gluing himself into the same spot, Sehun asked, “Then, what would you do?”

The butler’s lips thinned into a wide smile, but he didn’t part his lips. “There are a million ways to charm a young lady, lad.”

“So,” Sehun impatiently said, “how?”

He wanted specifics, not vague conspicuous answers!

The man lightly patted a hand against his black buttoned shirt, “You have to be sincere in order to be charming.”

Sehun flatly stared at him with an oncoming glare, because that wasn’t what he wanted to hear. He wanted a step one, step two, and a step three that would lead to four, five, and six and so on.

“I’m already sincere,” Sehun complained.

The old man looked at him smiling just barely, “It takes patience. Effort will always come through.”

Groaning from deep within his throat, Sehun decided it was useless. Climbing the stairs to his room he slammed the door. And even so, he did plan his next step.

The next morning, he was back in the cafeteria handing over cash to the lady in exchange for chocolate milk and a sweet bun. Ignoring the curious laser eyes shooting at him on the way up, Sehun went into their classroom. Namjoo hadn’t made it yet, so he eagerly sat down at his desk waiting to hear the obnoxious deep voice that belonged to the shaggy haired kid. Two minutes then three passed. Classmates started filing in and then Sehun heard them.

Straightening in his chair he glanced over his shoulder. Saw Chanyeol hooking his backpack over his chair and slip into his seat. Jongin was already in his assigned seat. Sehun’s brow twitched, but the delinquent wasn’t his focus. Cutting him out of the picture he caught Namjoo finally settling into her desk.

Swiping the sweet bun and chocolate milk off his desk he walked toward her. Several heads turned as he traveled down the aisle. He noticed Jongin’s eyes sliding up when he reached the side of their double desk. Namjoo feigned ignorance the way she always did.

“I bought you milk and bread,” Sehun placed the items onto her desk.

Namjoo didn’t even bother looking at him. Sehun didn’t expect her thanks, but after last time’s incident he expected her to accept his token. He nearly smiled when Namjoo grabbed the milk and bread but then… “Do you want them?” she turned to Jongin.

Sehun could feel a mad rush whoosh through him. Spite made his face burn. Namjoo didn’t even wait for Jongin to answer before sliding the foods onto his desk.

Engulfed in a pit of rage Sehun wanted to snatch the foods and throw them onto the floor. He was forced to bite his tongue when the side door opened and the homeroom teacher stepped in. He shot Namjoo a long glare to let her know he wasn’t done with her before forcing his legs to return him to his desk at the front.

He steamed with anger with entire day. Unable to find an opening to chat with Namjoo because she purposely made herself busy with that shaggy haired kid. The sight of them together made him want to toss his branded shoes at them.

It wasn’t fair!

⁂⁂⁂⁂⁂

Jongin’s hand was inside his blazer jacket the entire morning. He was nervous the entire morning. And kind of embarrassed about it.

He knew Namjoo’s nose would be in worse shape than it was when she first got viciously hit by the soccer ball yesterday. If it hurt, if she took pain meds he didn’t know. Jongin could bet he had been in more brawls than she had, so he was familiar with the extent of pain brought by injuries.

Namjoo’s voice had shocked him out of self-debate that morning. He was aware Sehun had approached their desks again. Obviously not there for him, so Jongin hadn’t paid much attention until Namjoo spooked him.

Sehun had heatedly glared. Chanyeol had looked on urgently. Jongin had quietly slipped the milk and bread into his backpack then the morning proceeded.

During lunch he had sat outside. He couldn’t bear the stifling cafeteria or the thought that he might look around for Namjoo. Try to hand her the icepack gone warm in his pocket. It was his dad’s actually. His father used it to numb away muscle pain at the end of a long and tiring work day. Jongin had stolen it out of the freezer in the morning. Now it was warm and useless.

If he brought it, he might as well give it away. Jongin debated long and hard. He didn’t want to say it was because he worried her nose would hurt a lot. God, that was embarrassing. Before lunch recess ended, he ran down the hallway to the infirmary. It would be nice and cool at the end of the day if he stuck it in the nurse’s freezer. He could also say he borrowed it from the nurse.

Jongin was the first one out at the end of lecture. The nurse smiled at him when he returned for the icepack now ice cold to the touch. Jongin’s heart had rammed. This being his first time doing an act of kindness. He had run down the halls so fast that by the time he reached the first-floor staircase the upperclassman hadn’t yet finished their climb down.

Jongin waited. A flurry of excuses had been prepared ahead of time. What a coincidence to see you. Here’s an icepack from the nurse. I found an icepack, here, use it. Your nose is swollen, here’s an icepack. The nurse told me to bring you an icepack. The teacher said you should use an icepack for your nose.

He perked up the moment he heard the shaggy haired kid roaring with laughter. His heart bumped into his chest. Namjoo just reached the first-floor staircase. In four steps she would pass him. It would be his chance then.

Jongin waited and watched. Only to feel his hand clamp around the icy icepack when he saw Chanyeol teasing Namjoo about the frozen water bottle she was pressing to her face.

She didn’t need his useless icepack at all.

On the walk home the icepack leaked through his jacket pocket as it began thawing. He didn’t let it bother him. Hanging his head low he wondered why he allowed himself to feel like a smart hero only to realize Namjoo also had her own means. Now Jongin couldn’t help but feel ridiculous.

Spotting a public trash can a block ahead, Jongin shifted his backpack to the front. Pulling out the sweet bread and chocolate milk. Discarding them when he passed. Zipping his backpack, he continued his way home.

Pots and pans were clattering when Jongin reached home. Not surprisingly, the front door was left wide open. Almost immediately he spotted a pair of heels placed neatly beside each other on the dirt stained rectangular orange carpet. Annoyance thickened deep inside his chest.

His father had done it again.

That lady was over again.

Biting his lower lip, Jongin kicked his shoes off. Letting them fly in different directions as he entered his house.

“Darling!” the woman poked her head out of the kitchen doorway. Her smiling lips were a glossy pink. “You’re home? How was school?”

Jongin’s brow twitched. Over again as if she didn’t have her own home, her own family to tend to! He just didn’t get why she couldn’t mind her own business.

“Oh…” she crooned like he was a baby. Walking over she touched his hair, “Your hair is mussed.”

Slapping her hand away he snapped, “Don’t touch me!”

“What’s wrong? Bad day?” she frowned worriedly.

It irked him even more. “Why do you even bother coming back when I don’t care! Just stop it!”

Slamming the icepack onto the table he stormed off to his room, slamming the door after him. Tossing his backpack onto the floor he jumped onto the bed, burying his face into the sheets. Something inside him was just suffocating. Jongin didn’t know what. He didn’t know what this was.

Nothing was right. He didn’t want to be feeling stupid like this, but it was there right inside him and he despised himself.

Whatever was happening he didn’t understand a thing of it. He didn’t want to, but it was such a sore because it was right there.

The frozen water bottle was Chanyeol’s. The sport kid always had a fresh water bottle with him every day.

Abruptly lifting his head up, he pushed himself off the bed. Flinging the door open he darted out of his room.

“Where are you going?” the lady was just setting the table for him. “Your food is ready!”

Jongin ignored her.

Sliding into his shoes he scurried out the door. Retracing his steps home. The sun was waning but it was still light out. The sun streaked sky just hovering above the treetops across from him. A car or two passed until he sighted the familiar trash can.

Namjoo might have Chanyeol’s water bottle but he had her freebie bread and milk.

Jongin dug through the disposables easily recognizing what he’d earlier thrown. Clutching the items tightly he trekked back home. This time feeling like a victor.

“Where did you go?” the lady stared at him when he returned. Walking right past her Jongin grabbed a damp towel and wiped off both the milk and the plastic protecting the bread cautiously. Safely tucking the milk into the fridge and the bread to the side Jongin went over to the table and had his meal.

That night he went to sleep more content with himself. Waking up refreshed and got dressed for school. Brushing off any creases in his outfit and gave himself a good onceover in the mirror. His bruises from the fight with Namjoo were fading perfectly. Jongin was looking more and more like his usual self now.

Skipping into the kitchen he pulled the fridge open to discover his chocolate milk missing.

“Dad!” he screamed so loudly he could have woken the entire neighborhood.

“What?” the old man appeared at the side of the kitchen entrance.

“My chocolate milk!” he exclaimed. “Where is it?!”

The old man had drunk it. Jongin huffed the entire way to school. Reminiscing the empty carton sitting in the garbage, the wrong one and not the recyclable. His innards had curled in his fit of silent rage.

“I’ll buy you another one,” his father had consoled, but Jongin didn’t reply. He’d simply walked out without breakfast.

Today he arrived earlier than usual at his desk. Not even Sehun was in. Sliding into his seat Jongin coolly waited for the rest of the class to walk in one by one. The student body filling up the empty spaces behind their desks. Attention alert Jongin listened for Chanyeol to arrive with Namjoo. No matter what day of the year on whatever occasion they always came together like they were connected at the hip.

Jongin stared at the white board all clean for today’s lectures. The black eraser at the left with a black marker next to it. Prim and proper just like the teachers liked it. The same way he’d always been seated in the back with Namjoo.

Jongin slightly stiffened when Namjoo finally walked into the room with her shaggy haired friend. He didn’t dare turn to make eye contact or look at her. He kept his gaze solely glued onto the white board even when Chanyeol curiously eyed him.

Sehun was the last to arrive today.

The class president first put down his backpack. Straightened and then shifted to glance at the back of the room. Jongin saw this. He gripped the item in his pocket when Sehun stepped into the aisle.

A step. Two. Three. Closing in on them.

When Sehun nearly approached Jongin turned placing the icepack onto Namjoo’s desk. Her eyes landed on it then him.

For the first time he noticed the clear sheen in her brown eyes, his own reflection in there, and how closely their double desks were adjoined.

“I brought this for you.”


***Sorry for disappearing for several weeks. I needed time to recharge, because I've been so burned out from writing I just didn't want to do it. I'll try to get back into a regular schedule of writing, but nothing can be promised for now. So here's an update of a successfully written chapter and tomorrow? We shall see  


 

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Comments

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Dyoooo
#1
Chapter 7: ohh this is so good
blackheartz
#2
Chapter 4: What Sehun doing.. You can't force kiss anyone T.T
Luweiweiwei29 #3
Chapter 4: Woah this story gives me feels .
Plz update soon authornim.
yeolmyheart
#4
Chapter 2: my god
but im rooting for chanyeol dhsksksk
yeolmyheart
#5
Chapter 1: YES SIS YES
LEGGO
cant wait to read next!