A/n: It has been a while! Sorry, I've been crazy busy lately. But I've returned! And will be updating regularly again. Woo~

I want to put some warnings on this chapter - mentions of drug use and drug use (which we've seen before, with Jongin smoking joints on Soo's balcony, but its a bit less discreet this time so yeah); mentions of overdosing; slightly suspenseful angst (aka the rest of this fic - it begins now). Enjoy!

Luhan bought his plane ticket the next morning, planning to leave on the coming Wednesday. Arrangements were made so his family could have their Confirmation meeting that afternoon. Minseok, who didn’t have to work that day, promised to accompany Luhan to the airport. He was worried about his best friend, and a bit paranoid about the boy’s safety. For some reason, Minseok kept thinking Luhan wouldn’t be able to get Confirmed, as if maybe his parents would claim he was a Category. But no; they might not get along well, but surely, they wouldn’t sentence their own son to death. He would get his Confirmation number and come back home, to Korea, to Minseok.

The night before Luhan had to leave, Minseok made them dinner, and Luhan asked lots of questions about the Confirmation process, to which Minseok answered that it wasn’t very exciting. Just long – endlessly long – and nerve-wracking. But a few hours and a million questions, and it would all be over, he promised. And the tattooing part wasn’t so bad after a while; Minseok’s didn’t even bother him anymore.

After dinner, they laid out on the couch, Minseok using the arm for a pillow, and Luhan laying between his legs, head resting on Minseok’s stomach. Luhan told him about his parents, which Minseok rarely got to hear about, and how he wasn’t overjoyed at the prospect of having to see them for the first time in years. Since he’d moved to Korea, he had neither visited nor been visited by his parents. They didn’t “approve of many of the choices he’d made”, as Luhan put it, though he didn’t explain further. Likely, they had wanted him to stay in China, have a respectable career, do something better with his life. A part time job and a shabby apartment were not putting much honour in his name. Maybe he was supposed to have courted a wife by now, Minseok thought. Whatever Luhan’s parents’ expectations were for him, clearly he hadn’t met them.

“Hey, Minseok?” Luhan tilted his head back, looking at the older upside down. Minseok grinned at the sight, and made a noise in response. “I know your apartment isn’t really that big or anything, but, since I’ve basically been living here the past month, I’ve kind of realized how much I like it, and how much I like living with someone – well, with you. Do you think – maybe when I come back, I could… move in?”

“Huh – what?” Minseok frowned. The proposition took him by surprise. Hadn’t they just been talking about how much of a disappointment Luhan was in his parents’ eyes? The two things seemed kind of… unrelated. But maybe Luhan had been thinking about it for a while, and now that he was doing all this talking, he’d decided to get it out. Minseok decided not to try and follow his train of thought, and instead focused on coming up with some sort of response. While he was thinking, Luhan spoke up, having taken Minseok’s response as a negative.

“It’d be a lot less expensive, you know? We could split the rent cost and whatnot, and still buy our own food, but… I like the idea of having someone cook for me, and get me up in the morning, and just… having someone be there. And you’re my closest friend, so…”

He’d never really thought of living with anyone, not even Luhan. It wasn’t that he never wanted to – he didn’t want to be alone forever – but it just wasn’t something he had taken time to consider. However, he couldn’t really see any reason why he couldn’t live with Luhan – honestly, if it was going to be anyone, Luhan would be his first choice anyway. And he might joke around, but he truly didn’t mind taking care of the younger. It was like having a little brother, just less annoying. But he knew better than to make any promises without thinking it through and planning things out.

“That sounds alright,” he said carefully. “Let me think about it while you’re gone, and then we’ll look everything over. Pros and cons, and financial stuff, and all that. Not that I don’t want to have you living here, but that’s kind of a… big decision, right?” Luhan nodded slowly. “I’m already getting used to you being here, but it still seems like a change that needs some preparation.” He ruffled Luhan’s hair. “What brought that up, anyway?”

“I’m sure my parents would love it if I told them I was living with someone,” Luhan explained, sardonic.

“Well, it’s not like you’d be moving in with a girl or anything.”

“They’ll still look down on me.”

Minseok’s brow furrowed. “Your parents are so harsh.” He petted the boy’s hair now, wondering if he’d ever gotten affectionate touches like this when he was younger. Minseok didn’t know if Luhan’s parents had always been so horrible, or if was just when he’d started calling the shots for himself. Suddenly, he realized Luhan rarely ever divulged into his past in China, and that Minseok knew very, very little about his childhood. He knew about Luhan’s time in Korea – how he’d been happy at first, having gotten away from China, but then he’d been scared and sad, and eventually grew to love the place, and then met Minseok – but that left a blank eighteen years. So much for being his best friend. Minseok had told Luhan all sorts of childhood stories of his own.

“You’re thinking bad things about them, aren’t you?” Luhan mumbled.

“No,” Minseok shook his head. “I don’t know enough about them, just the little bit you’ve told me. They seem… not nice. You have to tell me about them, and about you.”

“You already know about me though.”

“Yeah, but when you were in China,” Minseok noted. “You never say anything about that.”

Luhan sighed, and Minseok wondered if maybe it was something he didn’t ever want to tell anyone about. He was about to assure Luhan that he didn’t have to talk to him when Luhan said softly, “When I get back. I don’t have time tonight, but when I come back home, I’ll tell you all about China, and my parents, and me.”

“When are you coming back, anyway?”

“I’m not sure,” Luhan said, biting his lip. “It was expensive and I, uh, didn’t get a ticket back.” His words came out sounding doubtful, even more so when he tacked on, “I’m getting my parents to buy it for me.”

“You haven’t told them yet.” Minseok knew Luhan well enough to recognize the signs of anxiety in him. Luhan shook his head. “This seems like a bad idea just waiting to happen.”

“I know,” Luhan sighed, and he sat up, throwing his legs over the side of the couch and planting his feet. He gave Minseok a feeble smile. “Don’t remind me. I’m gonna go shower.”

He was gone a moment later, and soon the quiet spray of water could be heard through the open bathroom door. It relaxed Minseok, perhaps too much. His eyelids began to droop, and it wasn’t long before they were more closed than they were open. Dragging himself out of the semi-aware state, he moved into his bedroom and changed into his pajamas. Then he slunk into the bed sheets and welcomed the sleep to return. They needed to be up early in the morning to go to the airport.

Luhan came into the room a couple of minutes after Minseok had turned in, moving around the bed wordlessly and getting in on his side. He edged closer to the middle, and to Minseok, facing him and reaching out to meet the older’s hand with his own.

As he fell asleep, Minseok wasn’t sure which one of them was holding on so tightly. Maybe it was both.

“

There was an air of awkwardness between Jongin and Kyungsoo at work that their fellow co-workers undeniably noticed, yet said nothing about. No one pointed out how tired Kyungsoo obviously was, either, although he almost always was well rested. When he came in at nine in the morning, though, his eyes had bags under them and he couldn’t stop yawning. Despite that, he at least put on an act to seem lively when handling customers.

It wasn’t his fault he hadn’t fallen asleep until three in the morning, and slept uncomfortably at that. He’d found out that being cramped on a less-than- cozy couch did not make for a good night’s sleep. Except, he’d expected to be squished on one half of the couch all night, and Jongin on the other. Yet when he woke up in the morning, he’d found himself all laid out, curled up in his blanket, Jongin’s pillow under his head. The TV had been shut off, and Jongin was – where? Kyungsoo had sat up, blanket slipping off him, and searched for the younger boy, finding him neither in the bathroom where the door was open and lights off, nor in the kitchen. His eyes moved to the window facing the balcony, but if Jongin was there, he was out of sight. But when Kyungsoo had moved to stand up, his foot brushed against something, and he’d looked down to spot a slumbering Jongin on the floor. In the end, Kyungsoo had gone over the back of his couch, taken a shower, heard his alarm going off when he was getting out (and it was one of those annoying clocks that got louder every few seconds until you turned it off, so by the time he threw a towel around his waist and scurried out of the room, it was blaring at an aggravatingly annoying decibel), and then gotten dressed and moved into the kitchen to make himself some breakfast. Jongin had been woken by the sound of the alarm, and came into Kyungsoo’s room as he was dressing – an unusual occurrence, as Jongin never went in Kyungsoo’s room, and he also never saw Kyungsoo without a shirt on, so there may have been some embarrassment there – to return the pillow he had borrowed from Kyungsoo’s bed (which Kyungsoo had been wondering about the whereabouts of.)  

They hadn’t spoken about the night before, or how they’d ended up sleeping the way they had, and Kyungsoo wasn’t sure he ever wanted any of it to be mentioned again. He was feeling a lot of unease about how he’d been so – open with Jongin, how he’d put himself out for Jongin to talk to about things, as if they were friends. Weakness, some might call it. He’d shown vulnerability at the brokenness of the younger. The idea was a bit worrying from his perspective. So when Jongin had arrived at work at noon – having stayed at Kyungsoo’s apartment for the three hours after Kyungsoo had left – the two quickly built cringe-worthy tension between them.

When Kyungsoo got off at three – halfway through Jongin’s shift – Jongin followed him to the back room, claiming to be taking his break. Kyungsoo removed his apron and hung it on a hook, and then turned, noticing Jongin standing not far from him. He cocked an eyebrow at the younger quizzically.

“Could – could I talk to you?” Jongin wondered cautiously. He glanced towards the back door that headed to the alley, and back at Kyungsoo.

Oh boy. Kyungsoo didn’t want to have this conversation. But he decided to get it over with, gesturing for Jongin to lead the way out, and Jongin did.

Out in the alley, which Kyungsoo hated because it smelled weird and made him feel a bit claustrophobic, Jongin began. “I just wanted to… thank you, for, you know…” He kind of flourished his hands awkwardly, not really meeting Kyungsoo’s eyes. “I didn’t – I never expected you of all people to… anyway, thank you. I’d probably be dead right now, otherwise.”

The last words dropped heavily on Kyungsoo. It seemed ironic to him that it was through Kyungsoo’s plan to rid himself of Jongin that he’d ended up taking him in. And painfully, there was some small part of him (though he kept it buried very far down) that was a bit glad Jongin wasn’t dead now. Now Kyungsoo knew Jongin as a person who had fears, not just as a drug addict, and that made it hard to wish him an ill fate.

Regardless of whether he wanted the boy dead now or not, it still was blush-evoking to be confronted this way.

“It’s nothing,” he muttered, and he found he couldn’t look Jongin in the eye either.

“It’s my life, I wouldn’t say it’s nothing,” Jongin noted, and then added, “Well, maybe it is to you, but to me…” And that hit Kyungsoo harshly. “Anyway… do you think we could talk more later? Does your, er, offer still stand? Last night, you said – you asked if I wanted to talk to you. Just… Could I?”

Kyungsoo wanted to say no, that it was a one-time offer and Jongin had missed his chance and laughed at him, and he didn’t deserve it now. He didn’t want to talk to Jongin. He wasn’t sure why he’d ever offered in the first place. He must’ve been really tired. However, something made him nod (maybe he was losing control of his body), and Jongin gave a tiny smile that was sincerely hopeful, and Kyungsoo hated that about him, because it always triggered the guilt in him.

“I’m gonna go home, then,” Kyungsoo said, before Jongin got anything else out of him. “I’ll – see you later, I guess.” And they parted ways.

Jongin didn’t come home.

At first Kyungsoo didn’t notice, because several nights – in fact, most nights – Jongin came home late, just before Kyungsoo was going to bed and sometimes even after he’d gone to bed. By this point, Kyungsoo considered giving him a key, but then, he didn’t know how the boy got in most of the time anyway. He rarely ever buzzed up. Kyungsoo hadn’t asked him about that yet. However, Jongin’s lack of appearance didn’t come as too much of a surprise to Kyungsoo initially, despite Jongin having said he wanted to talk with him. If he was so eager to tell Kyungsoo all his feelings, wouldn’t he have come straight from work? Apparently this wasn’t the case though. Maybe he’d chickened out, not that Kyungsoo minded. He hadn’t been looking forward to the conversation anyway.

Yet when ten o’clock went by, and Kyungsoo didn’t feel like waiting up for the boy, falling asleep on his couch, he moved to his bedroom. Exhausted, he was quick to fall asleep, and didn’t wake up again for several hours, until nearly eight in the morning. He didn’t have to work that day as it was. He went into the kitchen, and there noticed the leftover meal he’d kept for Jongin, still in the fridge, untouched. Kyungsoo peered into the living room, but the couch was also just how he’d left it when he’d gone to bed. Jongin nor his bag – which he’d taken to work the previous day, as per usual – were nowhere to be seen in the apartment. At first, the idea that maybe he just couldn’t have gotten in occurred, but no, he would’ve rang up. Jongin had just never come back that night.

Maybe he’d been caught. The thought made Kyungsoo feel confusingly uneasy.

He decided to drive down to the café and ask if anyone had known where Jongin had gone when he’d left yesterday. Kim Minseok and a girl were there, just opening the shop when Kyungsoo arrived. Neither of them had been there the previous day, however, and upon checking the schedule, Kyungsoo saw that Jongin wasn’t working today or the next. Kyungsoo went to the back alley, making sure Jongin hadn’t slept overnight in the dumpster or something. He wasn’t there either. Feeling somewhat panicked – and he wasn’t even sure why; Jongin wasn’t his responsibility or anything, they weren’t even really friends – Kyungsoo returned to his car, without a clue as to where someone like Jongin would even go. If he’d been captured, there was no way Kyungsoo would really ever know; Jongin would just stop coming into work, but there were lots of reasons he could have quit, so Kyungsoo would never be able to be sure. He wished he had Jongin’s cell phone number.

Chewing on his lip, Kyungsoo wondered why he was even bothering. Why not just go home? But at the thought of home, he was struck with the memory of Jongin’s home. Well, it wasn’t really his home, it had been his friends… Would Jongin have ventured there for some reason? And Kyungsoo had to check. He was far too curious of a person to let it go.

The amount of wrong turns he took, the number of buildings he saw that Kyungsoo thought might have been the one they’d stopped at, caused him to take half an hour to make the five minute drive, but then he was back to the place he’d once promised himself he would never return to. He stopped at the front door and went inside. It bothered Kyungsoo that the door was open to allow anyone in. Shouldn’t there be a buzzer system, at least? He went down the stairs to the basement floor, and all the way to the end apartment as he remembered. At the door, he paused at the wave of that familiar scent. Taking a deep breath through his mouth, he knocked and waited. No one answered. He supposed he wasn’t surprised by that. He tested the doorknob, which gave easily, and swung the door open.

Inside was the same as Kyungsoo remembered; messy, strange objects littered here and there, plants growing, the tiny windows shuttered. He didn’t dare take off his shoes as he stepped inside, afraid to step on something deadly. He gently pushed the door closed, and hit the light switch, eyes searching quickly for the shape of a body, but if Jongin was in the little living room slash kitchen, he was well hidden. Kyungsoo peeked in the bathroom to find it just as oddly filled but Jongin-less, and then went to the bedroom.

It was black in there, and really not much bigger than a closet, with just a bed and desk and a tiny bit of space around them. Kyungsoo squinted, looking for some sort of light, and spotted a lamp. Something crunched under his foot as he stepped towards the little light, and he jumped back, before turning on the lamp to see what it had been. It sort of looked like a needle. What happens in this place? He wasn’t sure he wanted to know.

Looking around with the light now on, Kyungsoo caught sight of Kim Jongin, sprawled out on the bed, unconscious. Kyungsoo held back a gasp and moved with caution towards the bed. He noticed things; the burn spots on the blankets, perhaps from times when he or his roommate had passed out smoking, the little bags of substances that Kyungsoo didn’t have to know much about to know they were drugs (though from his research he thought he recognized some of them), and the needle next to Jongin’s hand – as if he’d dropped it before he’d lost consciousness – although it’s plunger was pushed down. That needle spiked Kyungsoo’s nervousness. He picked it up and moved it aside, very carefully kneeling on the bed and touching Jongin’s wrist. There were old track marks there, which Kyungsoo had noticed before, but there was a recent one with a prick of now-dried blood that must have been from last night, or maybe this morning, he didn’t know. Immediately, Kyungsoo’s mind was whirring with the idea of overdoses, and he swallowed hard, stilling himself so he could find a pulse.

There was a soft beat under his fingers, and when he himself became silent, he could hear Jongin breathing steadily. That was reassuring. Jongin was just sleeping then, hopefully. Kyungsoo shook his arm, and then cleared his throat and called Jongin’s name. After a few tries, Jongin started, gasping, eyes flying open. He didn’t seem to see Kyungsoo at first, but then his eyes loitered over to him, and he gulped. Kyungsoo pulled his hand away, reaching into his pocket to pull out his cell phone and glance at it briefly.

“Good morning, I guess,” he said slowly. “You, um, didn’t show up last night. I figured maybe you came here.”

Jongin seemed to try to sit up, but struggled, and ended up staying down. “Why are you here?”

“I-” Why was he there, really? He wasn’t sure he knew. “I was… curious where you’d went.”

“Were you worried about me?” Jongin wondered, and his voice didn’t even sound mocking.

“No!” Kyungsoo answered quickly. “It’d be nice if you told me these things though, so I didn’t make you dinner.”

Jongin quirked a bit of a smile, but it faded when he tried to move again. “I feel like my muscles are all lead,” he grunted, frustrated. “My body doesn’t want to cooperate.”

“Why is it doing that?” Kyungsoo asked, concerned and trying not to act it. “Did you – do something?”

“I came here last night – I do that sometimes – and I, uh, I think I overdosed. Well…” He trailed off, looking a bit ashamed. “I know I overdosed. I mixed something things that I shouldn’t have, I think, and… I was kind of messed up. I figured you’d be mad if I went back like that, and I dunno if I’d have made it if I tried anyway,” he admitted, and Kyungsoo supposed he should appreciate the consideration, but he found it hard to overlook the fact that Jongin just hadn’t come back.

“So, you can’t move, then?” Kyungsoo asked, wondering how drugs could do that to someone. Paralyze them like that. He’d read about mixing drugs like and heroin, and how they could be very harmful together, since they had the opposite affects. It could put the body into overdrive, or shut it down. Maybe Jongin had done something like that.

“Um, no, not really. You might as well go,” Jongin told him. “I’ll just wait it out, but I’ll probably end up getting pissy soon, having to go that long without a smoke and stuff. I’ll be fine, though; it’s happened before.”

“You’d think you’d have learned if you’ve done it before,” Kyungsoo noted, and Jongin just made an attempt at shrugging, before making a grunt of indifference. Kyungsoo was unsure why he was so curious, but he couldn’t stop asking questions. “How long will it last?”

Jongin thought for a minute, counting the hours. “Maybe… five or so more hours? Just long enough to make you go crazy.” He sighed. “Don’t ever start on drugs. Not the heavy stuff, at least.”

“I would never,” Kyungsoo said immediately, a tone of disgust heavy in his words. Then he shot a look of guilt towards Jongin, who half-smirked. “Anyway… Will you be alright on your own, then?” Kyungsoo wanted to go. He didn’t like this place, or the gnawing feeling in his stomach.

“Yeah. Like I said, moody, slowly driven to the point of insanity, but yeah. Once I can control my body and have a joint, I’ll survive.”

Kyungsoo had no idea what made him offer. Maybe he was getting high off all the smells of the place. Was that a thing that could happen?

“Did – you want one now?”

Jongin’s brow furrowed. “One what?”

Kyungsoo coughed slightly, feeling his cheeks flush. “A joint.”

“You’re – what? You would do that?” Jongin sounded as disbelieving as Kyungsoo felt. Neither could actually comprehend Kyungsoo’s suggestion.

“What’s wrong with that?” Kyungsoo retorted guardedly. “I’m just trying to be considerate.”

“Yeah but normally you’re all, ‘No drugs! No Category crap! Blah blah’,” Jongin pointed out. A ghost of a smile appeared in his eyes. “You must have a weak spot for people in need.”

Kyungsoo could almost hear voices hissing in his head. Weak. You’re weak. You’re letting him get to you.

“That’s not true!” Kyungsoo snapped, and he wasn’t sure if he was arguing against himself or Jongin. Both, he supposed. He stood up, incensed. “Sorry if I try to be nice!”

Jongin backed off. “No, it’s fine! I was just joking around,” he promised, eyes wide. “Don’t go. I really would appreciate a joint.” Kyungsoo swallowed, taking a breath, and nodded, asking where to find one. “There’s some… on that desk, there’s probably one somewhere.” Jongin’s eyes looked towards the tiny desk cramped in the corner, where the lamp was sitting. Kyungsoo crossed to it, watching his steps, and then examined the desk. He picked up something that seemed to be right, and held it up.

“Is this it?” he asked.

“I dunno,” Jongin answered. “It might just be a cigarette. Does it smell like weed?”

“Why would I know what weed smells like?” Kyungsoo shot.

“I smell like it a lot, I figured you’d know by now,” Jongin said casually. Kyungsoo sniffed at the thing in distaste, and it did smell like Jongin. “Bring it over, I’ll tell you if it’s right or not.” Jongin was chuckling as Kyungsoo moved back and held the object out for Jongin to smell, mumbling something about ‘so naïve’ and then nodding.

“That’s it. I have a lighter in my pocket, I think.” Kyungsoo bit his lip before hastily patting Jongin’s jean pocket and feeling the shape of the plastic lighter there, reaching in and pulling it out. It took him a few tries to make a flame, and when he did he was so surprised he let go, making Jongin laugh and Kyungsoo mutter a ‘shut up’ before trying again. He got the flame again, and held the joint over it, feeling unnerved, and then put the thing to Jongin’s mouth. “Thanks,” Jongin said through his teeth before taking a drag.

As Jongin smoked, Kyungsoo was worrying about whether or not he could get high from the second-hand smoke, but he didn’t voice this. He didn’t need Jongin laughing at him. It smelt so horrible though, he couldn’t even imagine why Jongin liked doing it. Maybe it didn’t taste as awful; maybe he’d just gotten used to it. Kyungsoo felt like gagging or plugging his nose, though he refrained from doing either, just barely.

At one point, Jongin asked Kyungsoo to take the thing from his mouth, and while Kyungsoo held it, Jongin said, “You should try it. Take a puff, I mean. It’s really relaxing. I think you’re too stressed, Kyungsoo.” Kyungsoo just glared.

When Jongin was done, and Kyungsoo’s services were no longer required, he took his leave, muttering before he went that Jongin had to come home tonight once he could walk again. When he was out of the room, he realized that leaving now, Jongin would have no way to contact him if he needed something. He looked around for a pen and paper, and was quick to find a pen, but there was nothing to write on. Eventually he just grabbed a cigarette, unravelled the paper, and jotted his number down on it, writing ‘Kyungsoo’s cell’ beneath it. He noticed Jongin’s backpack, and left the number sitting on top of it, before getting out of the apartment.

“

Minseok felt very gloomy in the cab ride to the airport, and Luhan seemed to be on the same wavelength, leaning wordlessly against his shoulder the whole way there. There wasn’t much to say. When they arrived, they made their way quietly through the crowds and whatnot, Luhan taking Minseok’s hand like a child and not letting go. They sat and waited for Luhan’s time to come up, and it was too soon that he was having to leave. Standing, Minseok pulled him in for a tight hug, and Luhan sort of felt like crying, but he didn’t, because he was an adult and he could make it through this. Minseok didn’t want to see him go, to send him off to his less-than-affectionate parents who might not take good care of him, might not pay for a ticket to send him back… And, even if it was just a few days, Minseok was afraid to be alone, separated from his best friend, unable to look after him. He wanted to be there when Luhan got Confirmed, so the boy wouldn’t be so nervous. But his seconds with Luhan were ticking away, and he needed to stop wasting them on thinking about things that wouldn’t happen. He had to let Luhan go and catch his flight.

“I’ll see you in a few days,” Luhan said in a forced light tone. “I promise. I’ll be back before you know it.”

Minseok nodded. “I know. Be careful, alright? It’s a crazy world.”

“You too,” Luhan told him. He looked like he wanted to say more, but he just hugged him again quickly and then said, “See you soon.”

“Have fun with your parents,” Minseok said, and they both gave half-hearted smiles. “Love you.”

Luhan’s eyes looked sad. “Love you too.” And then Minseok was watching his back retreating.

He stayed there for a few minutes longer, feeling lost in waves of misery. He was too worried about Luhan, and too depressed right now. But it was hard to feel happy when the world was kind of really falling apart.

Time seemed to go slower, the ride back home longer now that Luhan was gone. It was going to be a long few days. Minseok would have to find ways to keep himself entertained, thoughts occupied away from worrying about his best friend. When he got home, he called Baekhyun but only reached his voicemail. Perhaps the younger was working at his new job. Minseok still wasn’t used to that idea. He hung up and texted Baekhyun to call him when he saw the message, and then sighed, lying on the couch and flicking on the TV. After a while, he ended up dozing off, and he awoke a couple hours later, disoriented. It took a moment for everything to catch up with him, and at remembering where Luhan had gone, Minseok began to feel down again. He decided to make himself a late lunch, as if food could cure his loneliness.

The rest of the day passed far too leisurely, and by dinnertime Minseok was cooking out of boredom rather than hunger. In the midst of making a meal for himself, his phone started ringing, and he went to answer it, figuring Baekhyun had finally gotten back to him. Yet when he looked at his caller display, it was Luhan’s number that showed up.

Minseok quickly calculated how long it had been. Six hours? Two for the plane ride, an hour or so to get to his parents and settled in. That left three hours for the Confirmation meeting. Minseok thought his own Confirmation had taken longer, but maybe the government officials had already been there when Luhan arrived, so they’d gotten right to it. But Minseok was sure the meeting wasn’t until two o’clock Beijing time, and it wouldn’t have been much past four there now…

“Hey, Lu, are you done already?” Minseok asked as he put his phone up to his ear.

All he heard was screaming.

A woman was screaming, and so was Luhan.

Minseok’s heart plummeted.

“Luhan? Luhan! What’s going on?!”

“Minseok!” There was a blasting noise, the sound of a gun being fired, and Luhan screamed again. Minseok almost dropped his phone, hands beginning to shake, and he nearly started screaming himself. “Minseok, they’re gonna kill me!”

His mouth went dry as the sounds of chaos on the other end of the line filled his ears. Luhan was shouting things in Chinese, and Minseok felt nauseous because he didn’t know what was going on at all, but Luhan had said someone was trying to kill him and that was enough to put Minseok in a full panic.

“Luhan!” Minseok cried. “What’s happening? Luhan!”

“They said – they’re taking us in – they called us Category 9s!” Luhan was choking on sobs of fear, speaking quickly but in terror. “My parents are dead – 请不要杀我! Minseok, I’m next! 不要杀我! No! Mins-”

Minseok shrieked as the phone line cut off. Eyes filling with tears, he blindly redialed Luhan’s number, crying out senselessly. THe phone rang and rang, and then Luhan’s voice was telling him to leave a message and Minseok was yelling and crying and begging for Luhan to pick up. He called over and over, and after a few tries the phone stopped ringing before it went to voicemail, and that’s when Minseok dropped his phone and threw up in his kitchen sink.

“

When Baekhyun got off work, he saw Minseok’s message and his heart stuttered. Was he okay? Why was Baekhyun supposed to call him? Before he could find out, Minseok was calling him, and Baekhyun answered.

“Hello?”

“Baekhyun!” Minseok’s voice was trembling. “Baekhyun, something happened to Luhan, and I’m afraid he’s going to die! I don’t know what to do… Please tell me he’s going to be okay. Tell me this isn’t real… He’s going to be killed, Baek! Oh God…”

Baekhyun had never heard Minseok sound so completely broken before. Minseok was the strong, sturdy hyung; he didn’t ask people for advice or help, not Baekhyun especially. Baekhyun’s throat felt tight, but he forced himself to speak. “Minseok, slow down – what do you mean? Are you alright? What happened to Luhan?”

“He went to China to get Confirmed,” the older sobbed. “He called me. I heard gunshots and screaming, and he said something – something about Category 9s. I don’t understand!”

Baekhyun felt his stomach knot at the mention of Category 9s. The public – Minseok – didn’t know about the Categories beyond seven. Of course he couldn’t understand why Luhan was being attacked; as far as Minseok knew, a ninth Category didn’t even exist. But Baekhyun knew otherwise. And nine was… Over-populated countries.

“Did you say – Luhan went to China?” Baekhyun asked dreadfully. China, where one in two people were being branded as Categories, whether they fit the first seven areas or not.

“Yes, he was going to get Confirmed with his family… But he’s not a Category, Baek! There aren’t even nine Categories…”

Baekhyun swallowed hard. “I’m gonna come over there, okay? I know it doesn’t make any sense, but me and Chanyeol will come over. Just – take it easy, hyung…”

He wanted to tell Minseok that it was going to be okay, that it was a misunderstanding and Luhan would be let go and everything would be fine. He didn’t know how he planned on explaining, how he could even try to explain to Minseok what Luhan’s fate was to be. But if Luhan had gone to China, and he’d been captured for being a Category, Baekhyun knew there was only one ending to this. Minseok was absolutely right.

Luhan was going to die.