" those guys! Am I right?" A frusturated Jonghyun yelled out into the open space of the living room while ruffling his layered hair. Minho and I said nothing. Jonghyun was referring to Key and Taemin, who in Jonghyun's eyes, ruined our group dinner. Jonghyun, Minho, and I had finally made it back to the apartment building after listening to the chatty record store owner voice his opinions about their relationship the whole way. Jonghyun ran in and offered us both clothing of his for the night. Minho settled on a plain white shirt, but chose to stick with his own pants, as Jonghyun's would be far too short on him. I chose a soft, white sweater and a pair of Jonghyun's baggy harem pants. After taking turns in the bathroom changing, I realized that I had forgotten to remove my shoes. 

"Jonghyun ah, do you think they will be okay?" I asked, as I was taking off my shoes, thinking that he was close by. I turned around and noticed Jonghyun was nowhere in sight. I gave a questioning look to the exhausted Minho, who pointed to the kitchen area. I tried to ignore how incredible he looked in white. 

"Their relationship? Or are you talking about their physical safety?" Jonghyun called from the kitchen. I could hear him rummaging around cabinets and a few moments later heard the pouring of something into a glass. Seeing as how Jonghyun was especially agitated after all that had happened this evening, I asumed that he was pouring himself a glass of some sort of alcohol. 

"Uh...I guess both?" I sort of clarified and asked at the same time. Jonghyun appeared, with a tumbler half full of something, looking a bit different. While he was in the kitchen, he removed many of his piercings and had taken off a few layers of clothing. His hair was messy and without the cover of his flamboyant, artisitc outfit, he appeared damn tired. And sad. 

"Key's a bastard, but Taemin loves him for some unknown reason. It always works itself out eventually. Although, when it comes to face over here, Taemin is not very forgiving." Jonghyun said, cocking his head to the side a bit and repeatedly moving it in Minho's direction, indicating that Minho was the face he was talking about. Minho frowned in response and sat down on the floor in silence, splaying his endless, thin legs out in front of him. 

"Taemin is protective of Minho?" I asked, moving towards Jonghyun a bit, so I could speak more quietly. Jonghyun took my wrist and brought me into the kitchen area. He pulled up a stool for me to sit on. 

"Very. Minho came around not too long after Taemin did. They became what we like to call "convenient friends." They did favors for each other. Taemin is a dancer, that's how he makes his money, as you saw earlier. I did not know where Minho stayed at the beginning of his time here, but he would come in often to buy Taemin a new tape for him to dance to. Taemin, on the other hand, would get Minho pain meds, which are very hard to come by here. Not sure if Taemin had Key con for them or what, but those kind of favors. Minho needed them since he gets his handed to him for a living. Then eventually, Taemin felt that he needed to move out of Key's warehouse. This building was full at the time, so Taemin got into another apartment building, not too far from here. The land lady, Hyoyeon also runs a brothel, but that's besides the point. I like her enough to trust her to take care of Taemin. Anyway, Minho once had this horrible fight. Real, real bad. It became more like a gang beat down. He broke like four of his ribs and got a concussion. First place he could think of was to go to Taemin and he has been staying there ever since. He pays his share of the rent too, with the money he earns from good fights. Taemin hates, absolutely hates that Minho does this to himself, but he has a drive and he's working himself up to the real fight. So to have Key, the love of Taemin's life, organize bets within the fighting circuit on Minho, because that son of a Joon told him to, is betrayal." Jonghyun was fuming a bit, and at the end of his explanation, it was obvious that Minho could hear them. 

"Jonghyun..." Minho sternly said, as he entered the kitchen area. He startled Jonghyun and I. He looked really hurt. I wanted to take his face in my hands and pat his hair. He looked lost and almost childlike. This really contrasted with his surface injuries and his deep voice. 

"Maybe I should go to sleep now. I'll let you two get to know each other, yeah? Minho, don't go to Taemin's tonight. Stay here." Jonghyun said, patting Minho on the back. He then grabbed Minho's face and kissed him on the forehead. Was is bad that I was jealous yet again? Minho sort of brushed it off like a normal thing. For someone as touchy as Jonghyun, it probably was. I could tell that this was Jonghyun's way of apologizing and exusing himself. He grabbed his glass and the bottle that his drink came from and began to walk to his room. "Make yourself at home, Jinks. What's mine is yours." He added. Jonghyun walked quickly to his room and before he shut the door, Minho and I could see that Jonghyun was closing the large window in his room and covering it up with a large board of thin wood. I confusedly looked to Minho. 

"There's buildings outside." Minho simply said, leaning over and almost whispering to me. "I make him do that. You never know with him." He added. I understood immediately that if they were not careful with Jonghyun, who knows what he would jump off of.

Jonghyun smiled wearily and blew kisses in our direction, he then closed the door slowly. It was a lonely sight to see someone with a bottle going to sleep by himself while others were still over. I walked carefully back to the sitting area, managing to trip over nothing on the way over. Minho caught my arm before I could fall to the floor. I felt his grip tighten on my bicep, almost protectively, as he helped me up to a safe, standing position again. His full lips were pursed a bit, and curcled up at one side in a small smile which caused my face to set itself on fire. I felt like someone was filling my head with helium. I was dizzy, flushed, and most awkwardly, silent. 

Minho, a master of silence himself, just turned around and walked back to his previous position on the floor. He spread out his legs. I could hear each joint crack as he unraveled his limbs. He winced. I knew that Minho must have had thousands of injuries beyond the ones that I could see. He then put his arms over his head, and stretched, the short white sleeves of the borrowed shirt, falling loosely around his shoulder joints. He lengthened his back for a few moments, hissing at some sort of pain he could feel. Back in a normal position, he smoothed out his shirt while I paid close attention to his hands, having noticed that he discarded the bandages he was wearing earlier. He had large hands with long crooked fingers. Going up the side of each finger were multiple bumps, bruises, and scrapes, giving his hands a gnarled, exhausted quality. Minho's veins were very prominent and his fingernails were very short, some of them being cracked. I could see his new injuries that were wrapped up only a few hours before. His knuckles had seen a lot of jaws. Several minutes passed. Minho then cleared his throat and began to speak. 

"Lawyer, huh?" 

"Hm?" I asked, caught by surprise at the sudden start of a conversation. 

"You're a lawyer." Minho stated, cocking his head a bit. 

"Yes. Well, I was...er...I still am. Just taking a break." I replied, stuttering. I was playing with my fingers nervously. 

"And your break led you here?" Minho asked, rightfully, really. It really made no sense why I was still here. 

"I stupidly went to a bar, and ended up at the Castle with Joon, I guess." I answered quietly, a little ashamed that at 29, I wasn't careful. 

"And you took a break because..." Minho began, urging me to finish the sentence. He wasn't mocking me or anything. His tone was one of genuine curiosity. 

"A personal matter came up. This case I was working on somehow led me to my own family member. I was too close to it." I explained in any simple way I could find. 

"Maybe you could take up street fighting." Minho said, blankly, processing my answer, but not acknowledging it. 

"I'm really not equipped for that." I scoffed. 

"No one is, but if you use your instincts, then you win." Minho said. 

"I'm sorry. I'm not sure I understand." I admitted. 

"This break of yours, it was instinct, right?" Minho asked me. It felt like an elementary school pop quiz and I was the fool that the teacher called out. 

"Yes..." 

"So, you're gonna win." Minho stated, now looking right at me. 

"Win what, exactly?" I asked. As I said this, I felt myself move from the furniture, to the floor. I curled my legs underneath me, and rested my arms on my knee caps like a child listening to a story. 

"This fight of yours. If you loved everything back home, wouldn't you have gone back? Jonghyun has taken you in. Key has showed you around and cared for you. You are important to them now, you know that right? So what I am saying is, if you use your instincts and realize that you're happier here, you could let go and become permanent. Weird how all of us came to what is rumored to be the worst of places but are better off than we were before? Just fight what's going on, and it'll turn out. I am thinking, you may not be so different from us." Minho said. He talked so differently than Key or Jonghyun. Key's speech was slow, heavy, hazy, dripping. Jonghyun's was hyper, fast, all over the place, and frenzied. Minho spoke at what I consider a normal pace, but he emphasized odd words, his voice cracked in a few places, he would go in and out of a low almost-whisper, and he used his fingers while he spoke. His fingers would curl at some points, straighten at others, become claws, relax, or shake. It felt like he was fighting against his words almost, quick jabs and sharp pointing. Minho could have read the phonebook and it would have captivated me just the same. I was also taken aback at the fact that this was the most I had ever heard Minho speak. The mention of the fight though, got me overwhelmed. 

"I'm not fighting, you know. I just feel like I need to stay to thank you all for helping me." I lied. I wanted to stay. I wanted to help. I wanted to protect and fix what I could. But mostly, I wanted people, the outside world, to care about this place. The street with it's black buildings, maze of sidewalks, odd stores, theft, murder, , street fighting, cons. Falling apart, struggling, boarded up. 

"Keep telling yourself that. I thought I would leave when I got here too." Minho replied, crossing his arms over his chest. 

"And you didn't because..." Now I know I was getting into uncharted territory. I knew very little about Minho and his story, for the most part, was secret even to the others. Beyond revenge and fighting, I didn't know anything. 

"I had this romantic notion that in somewhere like this, I would find people who cared and loved me. Taemin wasn't exactly who I expected, but that notion became reality. Taemin, for some unknown reason, cares for me like I am his sibling. Jonghyun, for some reason, patches me up. Even Key. Key cooks for me. That's why I didn't leave. I came here for a specific reason, and soon I had a hundred reasons to stay." Minho said, looking a bit distant. "You probably feel the same way. Or I assume, anyway." 

"I don't like to be attached. Can I say that I don't feel the same way?"

"You can. But you're lying to yourself." 

"I'm too attached. I'll admit it." 

"So a lawyer can tell the truth." 

"I can." 

"Then what do you think of us? Or rather, what would you think of us, how would you see us if you just saw us out and about? If you didn't meet us?" 

"Key is the kind of guy I would jump at the chance to take down in court. Jonghyun is the kind of guy I would roll my eyes at as he crossed the street. Normally, I would have thought Taemin to be a e. And you..." I stopped. Words were just pouring out of my mouth, nuturing the seed of the conversation and allowing it to grow in long, gnarled, twisted directions. 

"And me?" Minho asked, eyebrows raised. 

"A thug." I answered quietly. Minho crossed his arms again. He stayed silent for what seemed a long time. 

"But now?" He asked, after complete silence. 

"I am attached." I whispered. To all of them. Especially Minho. 

"Well, you're not off. Key is a criminal. He lies, steals, places bets. Jonghyun is a profoundly rash eyesore, that walks the line between hippie and a middle aged man whose passion is drinking. Taemin is a street performer, but used to sleep around for money. I use violence to make money. In short, I can see why I would be called a thug." 

"You all wear those titles like boyscout badges?" I asked, a bit frusturated. It didn't make sense to me, how he could be so candid about their faults. Were they proud? Were they accepting of their fates with no desire to change? Where I came from, people wanted to improve. The words left my mouth so easily. Like all the things I had said before. 

But then, unlike the rest, this question froze. It just hung there. Suspended. The mood of the conversation took a turn. It became darker, more serious. 

"Doing what we need to do to live is very different than having pride in what we do." Minho stated. To any other person on the outside of this moment, Minho would have sounded the same as he previously did. He wasn't fuming or moving or speaking any differently. Someone would have to be right in front of him, like I was, looking into his eyes. I was terrified. 

"I'm sorry..." I began, only to be cut off. 

"Do you think Key enjoys seducing old creepy business men, making deals with them, placing bets on me for scum like Joon? Do you think that he hands out ual favors to the mob because he's in love with those guys? Because he's bored of Taemin? Not too long ago, Key had a red impression of a gun head on the side of his face because they would not leave without some 'attention' from Key. Why do you think he smokes just about anything that can be ground up and put in his pipe? There's an excellent chance that Joon threatened to hurt Taemin, which gave Key no choice. I wanted to ask him when I figured it out, because I know he wouldn't get into my bracket by his own free will, but he was so high and burdened by guilt that he couldn't even speak or make eye contact with me" Minho got up and began pacing. I was absolutely sure that there was much more inside of Minho, begging to explode. As someone as supposedly violent as Minho, someone who seeks fights for some sort of revenge, he of course needed a way to not make every thing in his path bleed. This was his coping mechanism. Pacing. Back and forth. I let him talk. I would not dare to stop him. 

"Do you think Jonghyun has the time of his life being a landlord to broken families, ex criminals, lost souls that just constantly remind him of what he got away from? He had a relationship a long time ago. He has been lonely and broken ever since and is constantly caught between wanting to jump for the thrill, or jump to never feel again. He is beyond not caring about his own safety. Taemin and Key and I have had to pull him down several times. He used to have equipment. Timers, clips, ropes, and his excuse is that he is an experienced adrenaline junkie, that he doesn't need that stuff anymore. We all know that mid air, moments before the concrete, he decides to try another day, but there are several moments when he considers not landing right." Minho continued. I could not believe what I was hearing. I felt sobs, huge, spine jerking sobs build up in me, but I had to hold it all back. 

"Taemin. Taemin is the most devoted, caring person that I have ever met. He puts so much faith into people, which is surprising considering where he came from. He hardly sleeps. He gets up at dawn to find a street corner. He pines for Key's honesty. He doesn't rest until he knows I am safe. He waits up for me when I have fights, screams at me, slaps me, but then holds me because he wants to make sure it is really all of me that is home. He sold his body for a while. Slept with people to get things for me. Slept with people to help Key. He is my mother, father, brother, and best friend all in one and I hurt him every day. He would throw himself into a street fight to stop it. Our titles, that you might have given us before, forget them. They are not being worn like badges. We carry them around like weights on our necks and shoulders and we cannot shake them off. Now there is no Key without the con or the pipe, no Jonghyun without the records or the jumping, no Taemin without the boom box or the nightmares. And I can't separate Choi Minho from the scars that 'The Razor' earns in his fights." Minho's eyes were red. Faint tear lines were traveling down his face. I was silent, until I wasn't. I began sobbing. I had never cried that hard in my lifetime. 

Minho collapsed on the floor next to me. There was very little distance in between us. Minho hissed in pain once again. I immediately grabbed his hand. I held it gently after seeing the injuries up close. My hand was extremely warm against his, rough, veiny, slim hands. I interlaced our fingers, hoping that this would speak more effectively than my words could. I almost audibly gasped through my tears at the feeling of the intimate position of our hands. Innocent, but intimate. Why did I take his hand? Was I comforting him? Offering my friendship? Showing how much I cared for him? Telling him that I needed him? Maybe it was a combination of all of them. 

"I know now that I have to stay. For as long as I can." I whispered, not letting go of our hands. 

"Are you battling yourself right now?" Minho whispered back to me. He was breathing hard, and although his voice was crackly and broken, his voice still felt like silk. 

"Instincts." I reply, playing with Minho's fingers with my two hands. My head was down. I was trying to hide my ugly tear stained face and my inflamed cheeks, indicating my shyness and extreme liking for the one I was with. "Are Key and Taemin going to be okay?" I added on quickly. 

"I think so." Minho said, adjusting his hand in my grip."Hyung?" Minho then asked, almost as if he were a sleepy child, trying to still talk at a sleepover, even though they are going in and out of sleep at the late hour. 

"Yeah?" I asked, breathlessly. I had no idea what was coming. 

"Promise me that I'll see more of this Jinki." Minho stated, ask his head rolled back a bit to rest on the cushioned furniture we were in front of. He seemed to me asleep. I inspected his face a bit. Creepy? Maybe. But he was beyond beautiful. It was hard not to. 

"Well you'll see whats left of this Jinki." I whispered, knowing full well that I have always chosen the easy path. To be the tough lawyer. To always help. To always uphold. To always respect and be respected. This path allowed me to not break. To not be weak. To stick with the routine. I was hoping my response was silent or too quiet for the sleeping Minho to hear. 

No badges, no definition, no label, no prizes, no incentive, nothing. It was a road of just me becomming more of me. The battle had only just begun. 

A/N: <3 love my readers. seriously.