Chapter 25:

“Remember,” Jongin reminded me. “It’s your choice. I’m not forcing you to-“

“I know!” I bellowed.

I watched his face twist, watching me with uncertainty and I immediately felt guilty. My intention was never to shout and getting frustrated with Jongin would only hinder me.

My eyes were still covered with a wet layer of liquid, glistening. I tried wiping them, convincing myself that I couldn’t do this while crying.

“,” I breathed into a low murmur.

Jongin was still silent, not staring at me anymore. His eyes remained fixed on the floor and I only felt more guilty.

Jesus. This could possibly be the only emotion I would ever feel again.

“I’m sorry,” I quickly uttered to him.

He shook his head.

“Kyungsoo, you’re only in this situation because of me,” he carefully answered, finally making eye contact with me. “You know that if I’d never met you, you wouldn’t be in this ing mess.”

“No,” I immediately argued. “Because then I’d be living a lie. I’d be convinced that you were a terrible person and that my parents were angels. It would be false.”

Jongin’s eyes were still staring but they weren’t seeing. An emptiness took over them, a familiar gaze that he’d commonly worn before I’d become friends with him. It was that lifeless, ghost-like veil that layered over his skin and masked his emotions. And to be honest, it terrified me.

“But sometimes,” Jongin started. “Isn’t that better?”

I knitted my brows in bewilderment.

“What do you mean?” I wondered, secretly worrying that my parents were going to walk in at any second.

“Don’t you miss the days when you were younger? When worries in your life had to do with such miniscule, unimportant things? When everything was fake because you still believed in monsters, and fairytales, and stretches of candy mountains? When our parents hid the truth from us and protected our ears and our minds from the darkness of reality? And while they suffered with the weight of finality and bills and demons, we, the children were blanketed from those worries like they were just the monsters under our beds.”

Jongin was almost crying.

“So yeah, it was ing fake, but what was so bad about that?” His voice dropped to a dangerous whisper as his last words fell upon my ears.

And I’d never wanted to be a kid again so badly.

Jongin said something so different, so out of character that I had to sit and think for a second. I never knew he had that side to him. I always pictured his life to be darkness in a tunnel without any light at the end because that was all I knew about him. But the thought never occurred to me, him having a normal childhood.

Suddenly a second wave of guilt and remorse and regret hit me. This was clearly the most emotional week I’d ever had in my entire life. It was all terrifying. I’d learned more about myself in these few weeks than I’d learned in sixteen years. I spent my childhood wanting to grow up but now all I wanted was to go back. I’d been so selfish and ungrateful back then. I took innocence for granted and now I couldn’t get it back.

“Jongin I-“

The door popped open and it took almost everything within me to stifle a yell.

“Kyungsoo,” my mother’s head popped out. “Ready for this?”

My eyes closed and I knew how not ready I was.

“Oh sure,” I replied, keeping my tone even and emotionless.

“Ta-da!” She presented a basket of edible arrangements from behind her, a basket full of beautifully decorated and assorted fruits, some even covered in chocolate. “I know it’s your favorite! Remember how happy you were when we got you this on your tenth birthday?”

I in a breath, unable to decide whether I was supposed to act collected or overly thankful. Either way, I couldn’t properly set them up for what I was about to do.

Jesus this was harder than it should’ve been. I couldn’t even breathe.

“Gee thanks, mom,” I said as she and my father stepped further into the room.

“You didn’t introduce us to your friend,” my mother continued.

My eyes flashed towards Jongin, who met my gaze with the slightest detectable concern.

“This is Kim Jongin,” I said, lips very dry. “He’s…my best friend.”

“Hmm sounds familiar but we’ve never met.”

My mother and father shook hands with Jongin who eyed them but smiled nonetheless. I could feel the tension and wondered if Jongin wanted to rip their intestines out. He should want to rip their intestines out.

But I knew he wasn’t that kind of person.

“What about Baekhyun and Chanyeol?” My dad chuckled. “Have you ditched them or something?”

“Yeah,” my mom joined in laughing. “They always-“

“Stop!” I suddenly shouted, feeling my face heat up and my toes tingle in annoyance and excitement.

With shaking legs I stood up, staring them both in the face. They were clearly in shock and I was expecting to get a lecture on disrespect but they both remained silent.

My fists trembled at my sides and I didn’t even realize Jongin was holding my elbow because I hadn’t stood up much in the past few days, so I was quivering madly.

“Why the hell was it okay to leave me in Korea while you two flew to America, huh?” My tone was disrespectful and informal. Something that I was not supposed to do and I expected anger from my parents.

“You convinced us,” my father silently responded.

I knew it. They didn’t lash out which meant they were guilty about it.

“Yeah but any normal parents wouldn’t leave their child no matter what.”

My mother looked at my father and they exchanged extremely uncomfortable glances.

“Don’t worry you two,” I explained. “I already know everything so you don’t have to think of any ways to tell me in the least shocking tone.”

“Kyungsoo, how-“

“Does it matter?” I hissed. “You want to know who ratted you out, don’t you? Is that all you can think about? You’re so selfish! Do you even know that you ruined his life!”

I whipped my finger at Jongin who propped an eyebrow at me, unprepared for the mentioning of his part in this.

 “He-“

I cut them off again.

“Kim Jongin. There is a reason it should sound familiar. It kind of sickens me that you don’t remember.”

“Oh-oh my god!” My mother slapped her hand over and grabbed my dad’s sleeve. “Honey, it’s the kid, the kid.”

Jong still said nothing, feeling incredibly awkward. This whole situation seemed to be making him nauseous because he was tipping from side to side.

“That day from-“

“Yeah that day,” I growled.

A silence ensued, obstinate and tense and unknown. I felt my eyes watering, watching a mask shadily turn my parents’ faces stone cold, hard.

“Kyungsoo listen-“

“No!” I argued. “I can’t! I don’t want to!”

I refused to let them speak to me. Whatever they would say would fall on deaf ears. I knew that if I listened to just a few words that I might be pushed into not doing anything, allowing the guilt to eat me up.

Either way, I would feel regret. Either decision, let them go or turn them in, I would feel regret. I just had to decide which guilt I could live with.

“I hate this,” I informed my parents. “I didn’t choose what you did. This isn’t my fault and I can’t help pitying you. But I’ve changed since you last saw me.”

“What are you going to do, son?” My father wondered, his tone even but unfamiliar.

Getting the words I had planned over and over again out of my mouth was harder with my parents’ human eyes staring right at me, burning singe marks into me with their deadly gaze.

“The right thing,” I coughed, rubbing my throat, which still remained sore.

“Yes, son, but what is that?”

My eyes stung with wet, sloppy tears. I couldn’t look at them any longer. With a quick snap, I turned to Jongin with a pleading expression, terrified.

I glanced at the edible arrangements and then towards the ground and back up at my parents. I knew they loved me. I knew it so well. But I was a rule follower. I was Do Kyungsoo, the child who usually did as he was told. But my gut told me that I couldn’t let them go.

“I’m gonna tell on you,” I responded like a child. “Because…I am a tattletale.”

I expected their faces to twist into horrified expressions but their lips were pressed into a fine, almost knowledgeable line.

They remained silent.

“Well?”

“Kyungsoo, that’s what we wanted to talk about,” my mom began.

I looked at Jongin. He seemed equally as confused.

“We planned on telling you today because judging by what happened,” she continued. “Maybe you’re not so well off without us.”

My heart pounded so hard I felt the blood in my ears.

“What do you mean?” I inquired, clenching my fists and then smoothing them on my hospital gown.

“We don’t want to keep secrets from you,” my father added.

“Well you kept a ing big one from me didn’t you?” I returned, noticing them flinch at my language but by now I was beyond caring. “And now I have to turn you in for it.”

“You don’t need to do that,” my mom remarked. “Kyung, while we’re in Korea it won’t be long until they find us. So we’ll turn ourselves in. We know it will look better that way too.”

I couldn’t even breathe anymore. Jongin rubbed a few patterns into my back to return circulation to my system. He must’ve noticed that I was stiff as a board.

“I-I don’t know what to say,” I confessed, glancing down at the floor just in time for the tears to roll down my cheeks.

Arms wrapped around my neck. My mother’s scent filled my nostrils and images of bikes, cookies, toys, and childhood memories suddenly ascended into my mind, pulling me into a bigger emotional current.

“You don’t have to say anything honey,” my mother whispered. “Just let your mom and dad take care of this one. Don’t you worry about it.”

Jongin’s words of childhood and being shielded from the pain of reality flooded into memory and I started to shake. All of a sudden I felt like a kid again.

At nine in the morning, December 20^th my parents attended their own trial where they were sentenced to ten months in prison.

I didn’t appear that day. Instead, Jongin took me along with Chanyeol and Baekhyun and Maggie Ann out to eat at a dessert shop.

The air was crisp and nippy, the kind of weather normal humans stay away from, especially individuals recovering from pneumonia. However, I was almost at full recovery and a multitude of blankets and jackets were used to keep in my body heat.

I tried to ignore how completely ridiculous and idiotic I looked. It wasn’t really easy considering I was a walking, plaid marshmallow surrounded by equally stupid looking people. Baekhyun and Chanyeol were in their usual mood, attracting attention with their silly antics and extreme gayness. Jongin looked like a juvenile delinquent as always. Maggie Ann was an American, sporting her white skin with bright red hair and interesting apparel.

And then there was me, the live version of a gigantic cotton ball.

We arrived at the cliché setting around 11 AM. It was smaller than I remembered. The walls "possessed numerous cupboards lined across the entirety of the shop, stretching to the end. Despite the deep shade of mahogany, other colors in the room were shades of yellows and reds, a summery feel that sharply contrasted with the freezing winter outside.

“Annyeong!” A small voice called out.

The four of us glanced around, confused because we hadn’t seen anyone in here yet. We stalked over to the counter and still found no one. It was only when we peeked over that we caught sight of dark hair messily placed into two tiny buns.

A child stood up suddenly, a little girl who must’ve been nine or ten. Her cheeks had splotches of frosting on them and two teeth were missing from , leaving obvious gaping holes.

“Are you running this all by yourself?” Chanyeol asked, going into his talking-to-little-kids-mode.

(Which, to be honest, wasn’t that different from his normal talking).

“Yes!” She cried.

“Where’s your mother?” I butted in, fearing Chanyeol would frighten her with his frantic and overwhelming happiness.

“Mama is out buying eggs!” She proudly announced. “I am in charge here.”

Maggie Ann was confused as ever because not only was the girl speaking in Korean, but childish, slightly slurred Korean. So, I quickly explained some things to her under my breath as best as I could despite even our language barrier.

“Okay, how about you take our orders?” Baekhyun suggested.

She smiled delightfully, pleased with this outcome.

“How about you!” She assertively pointed at Jongin.

“I’m not having anything,” he responded.

“But you have to!” She argued.

“No I don’t.”

“It will make you feel better!” She encouraged.

“Feel better?” Jongin retorted, muddled.

“Well you look so mad!” The young girl accused.

“This is my natural expression,” Jongin grumbled with an eyebrow raised.

“That’s rough buddy!” She responded. “Well why don’t you-“

“Okay fine,” Jongin cut her off. “I’ll take that raspberry cupcake.”

I smiled watching them bicker. It reminded me of when I first met Jongin. He was never really bad, just reluctant to be helped, to be loved. He was always taking the blame for things that weren’t his fault, and secretly caring for things he shouldn’t care about, attentive, observational, and above all selfless, more than I could ever be.

We ordered our food and made sure that we didn’t accidently scam the girl by giving her the wrong amount of money. Eventually, we were guilted into buying her food too, and she sat down with us, listening to our high school problems.

The subject of my parents was avoided, obviously a touchy topic, though everyone at the table knew what was happening today (minus the pipsqueak).

Baekhyun and Chanyeol shared a giant sundae, swapping spit as usual. Maggie Ann ordered a bowl of strawberry ice cream, topped with random things that might’ve sounded appetizing in America. Jongin obviously had the raspberry cupcake and I guiltily ordered the incredibly fattening cheesecake.

“Seohyun-baby!” A young woman in her thirties walked through the door. “What on earth are you doing?”

And then we had to calmly explain to Seohyun’s mother that we were not, in fact, attempting to kidnap her nine year old daughter.

The whole experience was amusing and incredibly distracting from my problems but the immensity of my issues was rearing its head and the closer it got, the farther back I tried to lurk.

It was my guilt. My guilt when I didn’t even do anything, really.

And it was eating me alive.

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A/N: WHAT? I UPDATED? WHAT IS THIS ? Well I thought you guys deserved an update because OMG THE SUBS WATERYOUDOING. Yeah I got more subs and comments and love and yeah I like love. So you know. Comment and . I love that. Yeah and IDEK what I’m saying in these author’s notes anymore. More like crying. KBYE. THANKS.