Song Minho (Mino) - WINNER

 

“Still no partner, Y/N? Aren’t you lonely?”

“You’re not still working at that bookstore, are you? Ah, I told you last Christmas to get something more sustainable for your future!”

“Your parents are growing older, yet you don’t any plans to make them grandparents yet?”

Slumping against the handrail on the veranda of your family home, you groaned heavily.

God, you hated family gatherings.

There was always someone who had something to say, and usually, it was about your lack of social achievements. You were too reserved, not ambitious enough and letting down your family by being single and nearing thirty. Every year, it was always the same. It didn’t matter if you had a promotion; it wasn’t one in a fancy corporate job in the city. You could fix your hair and makeup differently, and they’d still ask what was wrong with your appearance.

There was never a way to please these people.

“Another stressful gathering?” a voice asked, and you glanced at your neighbour’s front porch. You grinned as Minho made his way down and over to you. He stopped next to you and joined you in leaning exhaustedly over the rail. “I bet you mine was worse this year.”

“Hardly. Uncle John asked me if there was something wrong down there that was keeping men at bay.”

Minho’s eyes grew wide for a moment as he looked at your lower half. You swatted him away as he started to laugh. “There’s nothing!”

“My cousin questioned if I was into men – and even if I was, there’s nothing wrong there! Being single isn’t the end of the world.”

“Family always ask the most inappropriate things.”

“And right around Christmas too,” Minho added, which you nodded in agreement.

“It is marketed as the happiest time of the year, and yet I go home from this night each time feeling low about myself.”

“Me too.”

“Why do we put ourselves through it then?” you wondered, staring up at the heavens. “We’re adults now. We don’t have to turn up if we don’t want to.”

“Seriously. We’re fools.”

“We set ourselves up for this failure every time,” you stated, and Minho hummed along.

You then turned to your old neighbour and smiled. “How is life?”

“I’m launching a new collection next week for my autumn line-up. What about you?”

“Well, I can’t say it’s as exciting as your news, but I have become the manager of the local bookstore.”

“Wow, persistence pays off! You’ve been working there since we were what, nineteen?”

“Well, you can’t go up the ladder much when you live in a small town opposed to in the city like you.”

“Hey, it’s cheaper to live here. You don’t know what my bank account looks like right now.”

You laughed. “You know, I only show up to these things for one person.”

“Same.”

“You,” you both announced at the same time.

You smiled. “Merry Christmas, Minho.”

“Merry Christmas, Y/N.”