Author's note: It is super short. Next chapter is like 2,400 words so that'll make up for it? The roses hahaha, well if you remember the answer is semi revealed by the chapters before it that mention Roses. You kind of have to assume, but from those chapters you can pretty much make an educated guess of who sent the flowers, like @rawr27 remembered. Enjoy the short but emotion packed (?) chapter!

Minho was bomb rushed after the performance. His manager, fellow singers, and dancers all wanted to congratulate him on his comeback performance. Little by little the people started to leave. Minho caught sight of his parents and walks towards them.

“Congratulations baby! You looked great out there!” his mom hugged him.

“Thanks mom”

“Was that little Taeminnie out there with you? We haven’t seen him in forever!” Minho gasped and looked around. Where was Taemin? He couldn’t see the younger boy anywhere within the masses of bodies.

“Yeah mom that was Taemin…” Minho noticed that Taemin’s bag was gone. He must have missed him during the initial rush.

“I saw him with Key, Jonghyun, and Onew, it’s so nice that your old friends came to cheer you on” Minho couldn’t look at his mother’s smiling face and just nodded.

 “I saw that Taemin hanging on, who is it darling?”

“Key, I believe”

“Yeah, I saw Taemin hanging on Key, is he a homo?” Minho froze. He knew his father. His father was the soccer coach, his biggest fan, the guy who refused his five year old son join his best friend in a dance class, it was “too girly” and instead enrolled him in a football camp.

“Honey! That isn’t nice to say!”

“Well, the way they were, you never know. Plus that Key guy always looked like a homo, so into fashion and now he is a fashion designer…” His father raised an eye brow.

“Does it really matter?” Minho burst. “Why does it matter if Key or Taemin like guys? Is that really that bad?!”

“It’s a sin Minho. You know that. It isn’t natural” His father looked at him, “I know that they are your good friends, but if they are homos, maybe you should befriend new people.” Minho glared and thrashed away from his mother’s hand on his shoulder.

“Let’s just go out to dinner and calm down, this is supposed to be a happy day!” His mother tried to smile, but it faltered when she saw the look on Minho’s face.

“I just want to go home. I’m not celebrating when you just insulted my best friend.” Minho his heel and left with rage building in him.

Anger at himself for being a coward.

Anger at his father for being a bigot.

Anger because he wasn’t where he wanted to be.

He slammed the door to his apartment when he got home. He went and sat on his bed pulling out his wallet. He looked down and pulled out a piece of paper. It was taped up and fraying at the edges. It was a picture of two little boys ready to go to their first ballet. It was the only picture he had left of them when they were little. Minho ran his thumb over the two boys faces. The smaller one smiling, while the taller one was smiling but looking at the younger boy instead of the camera. He placed the picture on other pillow and whispered,