Chapter Text
Seungmin has avoided this moment for four years.
He would have continued avoiding it, if he had the chance. But his lease ended, and his new one doesn’t start until September, and he’s run up every excuse he has about three years ago by now.
The bus is humid as hell. Seungmin hates summertime. It’s useless, and hot, and makes him feel uncontrollably antsy. Like he’s wasting his time because he’s not wrapped up in schoolwork and busy all day. There’s not something else to do when he’s sitting around doing nothing, because he’s just occupying space until there’s something to do again.
He had a therapist that told him he should focus on improving that mindset. He left her in the city too.
His stop is at the very end of the line. The last one on the bus, though he’s sure that in a few weeks it will be packed. Beach towns do well in summer, even if they’re left to rot the rest of the year.
The driver nods at him as he shoves his giant duffel over his shoulder, climbing down the stairs and entering an equally humid world.
They call it a bus station, but it’s just a small overhang with a ticket machine that hasn’t turned on in twenty five years at the dead end of a side street.
Regardless, Seungmin’s sister is there, waiting— just like she said she’d be. Sitting on the hood of her bright red, ninety-three Ford Festiva, the thing still managing to start after twelve years under her questionable guidance.
“There he is!” she cups her hands around her mouth. “My baby brother! Home at last!”
She loves to do that. Make a scene, try to embarrass him. Loud and unashamed. Seungmin blushes on instinct, even though no one is around besides the crows cawing in the trees.
“Hi,” he says, dragging his feet across cracked pavement. “Oof—” the wind is knocked from his lungs when Sooyoung hugs him. Her arms are freakishly long. “Youngie. You saw me last weekend.”
She did. When he graduated. And she left with her car stuffed to the brim with boxes, a promise to pick him up from the bus in a week.
“Oh, but you’re my baby, Minnie,” she hums, swaying back and forth as she holds him. “It’s a miracle that I even got you back here, huh?”
Seungmin doesn’t answer her. He just lets himself be held.
Sooyoung is a reckless driver.
Windows down, music blasting, her long hair whipping around in the wind so much that it’s hitting Seungmin in the face.
She squeaks when she almost hits an old lady, slamming on the breaks, leaning out the window to shout, “Sorry, Kyungja!”
The woman waves her off, returns, “Watch where you’re going, Sooyoungie!” laughing like it’s the funniest thing, hobbling across the street.
One of the things Seungmin enjoys about the city is that no one knows anyone. He can go to the store, or out at night in his pajamas, and not have a tickle of worry under his collar that he’s about to run into someone. But, then again, he’s been gone for long enough that it might not matter now.
He dropped his last bit of baby fat, grew half a foot, started dressing like an adult rather than a child. Sooyoung says he looks the same, but she’s seen him much more often than kids from school. Whichever ones are left. Most people pack up and get the fuck out as soon as they can.
The ones that stick around get married to their high school sweetheart, or have obligations they can’t ignore, or are stuck on behalf of their baby brother.
Sooyoung pulls up to their building. An apartment complex from the eighties that they moved into after Sunhee lost the house. Two bedrooms, cheap carpet, perpetually smelling like something damp. And still, walking in after his sister, door shut behind him, he feels like he’s breathing for the first time in hours.
“Go get unpacked. I left the rest of your shit in your room,” Sooyoung says, skirting off to her own door.
Seungmin follows directions well. He’s good at that. He kicks open his door, slightly ajar, and kicks it shut behind him.
Everything is untouched. Mostly. There’s a pile of boxes from his apartment in the city, but his twin bed is made with his bedspread from highschool, and all of his Shinee posters are on the wall. It’s not like Sooyoung has another use for his room, but maybe he was hoping she would. Give him another reason to stay away.
On the bedside table, just as it was when he left, a picture frame, laying face down. He set it there back then. No one has picked it up.
The back of the thing is caked in a layer of dust. Grimy on his fingers. He tips it towards him.
A photo of him and Felix, probably sixteen, arms thrown around each other’s shoulders. They look so happy. Felix’s freckles are dark, the photo taken at the end of the summer. Seungmin isn’t looking at the camera, but at his friend. His hands shake when he lays the picture back down. He put it there for a reason.
A knock sounds at his door. He turns around to catch Sooyoung poking her head in.
“Minnie, I’m gonna shower. I have to work tonight. I’m sorry.” She chews her bottom lip. Guilt complex as wide as the ocean on the both of them.
“It’s fine, Soo.”
She hums. “Maybe you could call one of your old friends. Felix?”
“Nah,” Seungmin scowls without meaning to.
“Okay, damn. Forget it,” she snorts, pushing the door open wider so she can lean against the frame. “What ever happened with you two anyway? Have you talked to him lately?”
He feels like he’s fifteen again, fielding questions from his sister about what’s going on at school. Who’s who and what’s what.
“Nothing. We just haven’t talked.”
“I just don’t want you to be lonely. I worry about you.” Guilty. Always so guilty.
Seungmin doesn’t know how to tell her he’d rather be alone. That being here is going to be bad no matter what, but he thinks he might die if he’s pushed into it head first. He knows she has a point, too.
When Seungmin was younger he had separation anxiety. Every time Sooyoung dropped him off at school he’d sob. Beg her not to go and cling to her leg.
“It’s fine. I’ll just stay home tonight.”
“Okay. Whatever, dude,” Sooyoung waves him off, rolling her eyes. The guilt only takes them so far when they deal with each other. Brother-sister things. Seungmin is sure she’ll mull it over her whole shower. Let it eat away at her. That’s how they are.
A habit woven into the marrow of their bones; the last gift of someone pretending to care.
❂
Seungmin establishes some sort of routine after a week of being home.
He sleeps in. Stays in bed for hours scrolling through his phone. Gets up for lunch. By dinner time, Sooyoung has either gone to work or joined him on the couch.
They eat ice cream out of the tub, and watch shitty movies, and then they go to sleep much too late.
It’s sad. Seungmin hasn’t even opened a window. He doesn’t have a reason to go outside. It’s hot.
He probably shouldn’t live like this. If he were still in the city he’d be enjoying his time. Outside, working, whatever it may be. But he’s not in the city. He’s here. Stuck until he isn’t anymore.
Grown Ups 2 is on the TV. It’s been on three nights in a row, and Seungmin has watched it three nights in a row. His eyes glaze over. Sooyoung kicks him from the other end of the couch, making his arm jerk, spoonful of vanilla ice cream falling onto his thigh.
He whines, watching it melt as soon as it meets his skin, rolling off either side of his leg.
“This is seriously sad, Minnie.”
“Fuck you,” Seungmin chokes through his mouthful of icecream. He pulls a tissue from the box on the side table, wiping his leg clean.
“You need to get out of this house.”
“No I don’t,” Seungmin frowns. He definitely does.
“I’ve let you sit here and rot for a full week. That’s more than enough time to get over yourself.”
“No it’s not.” Yes, it is.
Sooyoung rolls her eyes. She wiggles around until she can pull her phone from her pocket, holding it over her face menacingly, scrolling.
“What are you doing?”
“Getting you a job.”
Seungmin gasps. He jumps towards her, spoon flying in another direction, carton of ice cream falling to the floor, attempting to pull the phone from her hands. “No!”
“Yes!” she yelps, pushing him back with her legs. She’s too strong. Always has been. She pushes his shoulder back with one foot, her free hand grabbing his wrist in an iron grip when he goes for the phone.
“Please, no!” Seungmin wails, overdramatic.
He knows exactly who she’s calling, because she asked him about it weeks ago. Mentioned it while they were packing up his apartment. Minho needs help for the summer.
The muted ringing stops. Line picking up.
“Minho!” Sooyoung grins at Seungmin, saccharine sweet. Bitch.
❂
Lee Minho is a rat bastard.
He runs the library. He’s a librarian. Took over from the old witch that’s been in charge since all of them were kids. It’s a miracle, really, how much things have livened up. Seungmin notices immediately upon walking inside. The addition of color alone is an improvement, but Minho even managed to rid the place of the lingering smell of mothballs.
He’s also Sooyoung’s long time best friend, and Seungmin’s longtime annoyance. Handsome, and smart, and always saying what’s on his mind. And, most of all, Seungmin would never, ever admit how much he’s missed him.
“Kim Seungmin, as I live and breathe!”
“Touch me and I’ll sue,” Seungmin raises a hand between them, though he knows it will never work. Minho isn’t afraid of the law, real or fake.
“You’re not a lawyer yet, which means I’m not scared of you yet,” he swats Seungmin’s hand away and goes for the kill, locking him into a strong-armed bear hug.
Seungmin groans, succumbing to his fate by making himself as small as possible. If he moves Minho will just hold him longer. A lesson in reverse psychology.
“I’m so glad Youngie called, I really needed some help this summer,” Minho releases him after a solid ten seconds, eyes shining. “I don’t have any employees that know how to read.”
As if on cue, a figure comes tumbling out from behind the stacks, a pile of books spilling over with him. Seungmin doesn’t realize who it is until the guy sits up a bit more. The curve of his cheeks is unmistakable, even while furiously blushed.
“I can read perfectly fine! I just have trouble with alphabetical order!” Han Jisung hurries to pick up the books he’s dropped, his flush painting his very exposed chest to the tips of his ears. He’s grown up well, wild hair, broad shoulders— still annoyingly cute.
And still crushing on Minho, Seungmin can see.
“You know Jisung, right?” Minho crosses his arms and leans against the circulation desk. “You two are around the same age… right?”
“Yeah, yeah,” Seungmin bends down to pick up the book that slid across the floor and landed by his feet. He hands it to Jisung. “Been a while, though.”
Jisung snorts, all of his books back in his arms. “That’s what happens when you go away to a fancy school. Better things out there than this, right?”
Seungmin shrugs. “Eh.”
He’s sure there are better things. But, he also doesn’t know if he’s found them. But, truthfully, he’s not quite ready to admit that to himself yet. Because he’s got his things in line, and he’s only here for a bit, then he’ll go back to what he’s turned his life into. Far away from here, hopefully never coming back.
The less time he dwells on it, the less time he’ll have to let his brain spiral into thinking that maybe things aren’t so bad, after all. That there’s more than one option.
He doesn’t have the luxury of more than one option.
“O—kay,” Jisung draws out his word. “I’ll keep working, then. See you around, I’m sure. Minho doesn’t let me work the desk.”
“You have terrible customer service skills,” Minho crosses his arms. “Every time a patron talked to you you started stuttering and looking nauseous.”
“You make me nervous! You were standing there staring the entire time!” Jisung argues.
“Because I have to train you!”
“Whatever,” Jisung mumbles, shuffling off down the aisle as fast as his heavy load will allow.
Minho turns to Seungmin expectantly. “I don’t make you nervous, do I? Because I’m going to train you to run the desk.”
Seungmin snorts. “Not in the same way you make Jisung nervous, I can assure you that.”
Brow furrowing, Minho cocks his head to one side. “What does that mean?”
Oh, god. Minho seriously can’t be that oblivious. Jisung is, quite literally, peeking through two books right now just to stare. Minho snaps in Seungmin’s face, trying to get him to answer quicker.
He really is stupid.
“Nevermind. Just meant that I know how you look when you’re truly murderous, do you remember when I pushed you in the pool in front of that lifeguard you wanted to fuck? I thought I was going to die, the way you came for me. Even though you looked like a drowned rat.”
“You were about to die. You would have if Sooyoung didn’t stop me from getting to you.”
“Right. So, tell me what I need to do. I’d like to get paid for being forced to spend time with you.”
There’s a certain level of understanding that comes with knowing someone for so long. Too long, Seungmin would argue, but he doesn’t have a choice in who his sister is friends with. He’s also bluffing, because he loves Minho just as much as Sooyoung does. He used to call them Mom and Dad when they were on his ass while he was a teenager. Sooyoung hates that. Despises it. Minho eats it up.
“I’m glad you’re getting out of the house, Minnie,” Minho says, smacking Seungmin’s back before hopping on top of the circulation desk, throwing himself to the other side. “You deserve to live a little.”
“It’s not really the living that I’m trying to avoid,” Seungmin says, taking the civilized path around the counter.
There’s a certain level of understanding in the way Minho looks at him. Because he knows more than he should. Because sometimes Seungmin would tell his Dad things he couldn’t tell his Mom.
❂
Minho gives them an hour for lunch.
Seungmin almost stays to pester him, but then Jisung plops down behind the desk and says that he and Minho eat together every day, and he doesn’t want to intrude. Even if Minho is completely oblivious.
“Are you sure, Minnie? You can join us,” he says.
Seungmin waves him off. “I’m gonna walk to the beach. Haven’t been yet.”
He swears he can physically see Jisung let out a breath of relief.
It’s too hot outside. Seungmin’s pants are too stuffy, he should have worn shorts.
He doesn’t have much direction in mind. He should probably eat something, so he stops at the corner store and buys a sandwich. Listens to Mr. Jung talk about what his son has been up to since he saw Seungmin last.
The conversation is long enough that Seungmin finishes eating before he leaves. Standing in the air conditioning, half paying attention.
“Does Yang Jeongin still work on the beach?” he asks before he leaves.
“Yes! He runs the surf shop now— what a good kid. Always liked him…”
Seungmin nods, making for the door before the man can start another story. Stories are what cause people to get stuck around here. He knows that for a fact.
“Thanks, see you,” he waves over his shoulder, bell clanging above him.
He’s sure that the news that he’s back will be spread around town by the end of the day. Mr. Jung will tell anyone who comes in, and they’ll tell anyone they bump into, and then everyone will know that Kim Seungmin is home for the summer.
For now it’s easy to keep his head down, and pretend like he doesn’t know anyone. To ignore the double take some woman who he thinks is the mom of someone from school gives him.
He hesitates as soon as his shoes hit the sand. Maybe he should turn around. Go back to the library. Who cares if Jisung is mad. Seungmin is struggling to survive, heart cracking against his ribs.
Tick, tick, boom.
Something Sunhee used to say. She explained it once, sitting side by side with Seungmin when he was about ten. Sticky, cherry popsicles melting down their hands, a day just as hot as this one.
“The thing is, self destruction is easy. Gives you an out because no one else is to blame. I can deal with being blamed. Tick, tick, boom.” She counted off each word on her fingers, and then mimicked an explosion. “I absorb the impact, you know?”
Seungmin looked at her. Blinked. Said, “No.”
“That’s okay. I hope you never do. I hope you’re nothing like me.” She said it so matter of fact. Like it was true, and correct, and there was nothing left to say.
So Seungmin said nothing else. He finished eating his popsicle, and walked home by himself.
He stares at his shoes now. The sand. Dirty. Starts walking.
Hands shoved in his pockets, desperately trying to seem less awkward. It’ll never work. He’s absorbing the impact and doing a terrible job.
He sees Jeongin before Jeongin sees him. Hands on his hips, staring out at the ocean, wet suit rolled down to his waist. His hair is slightly damp, and he’s much more bulky than he was four years ago. Strong.
Seungmin clears his throat, and Jeongin turns. His face shuffles through a range of emotions for a minute, until his body catches up.
“My god, do my eyes deceive me?” Jeongin makes a big show of taking off his sunglasses, putting them back on, taking them off again, acting like he’s seen the second coming. “Kim mother fucking Seungmin!”
“There are kids around, watch your mouth,” Seungmin says lamely. Absolutely no children are within hearing distance. He’s just bad at affection.
“It’s so good to see you, man!” Jeongin pulls Seungmin into a quick hug, smacking his back. His grin is wide, just as dazzling as it always has been. The man is the dictionary definition of charming, no matter what he’s doing. Even if he’s embarrassing himself, it still comes off endearing. Seungmin’s always been jealous of it— in an admirational way.
“Couldn’t keep my apartment for the summer,” Seungmin kicks the sand mindlessly. “So I’m stuck here for a bit.”
Jeongin nods, seemingly very interested. He probably is. He’s genuine like that. “Ah, is it weird? After going out of your way to avoid it for so long?”
Seungmin winces. He can’t even argue. Jeongin hit the nail on the head.
“Yeah. A little,” Seungmin shoves his hands in his pockets. “I was going to rot at home but Minho needed help at the library…” a shrug. “So, whatever.”
“Well, I mean, if it’s any consolation, things have been looking up around here! We’ve got a ton of new businesses on Main Street, and some of those old homophobic fuckers are eating it— it’s not half bad. Really. And I’m not just saying that because I never left.”
Seungmin eyes him skeptically. “Where do you live anyway? Didn’t your parents fuck off?”
“They did!” Jeongin chuckles, hands on his hips. “You know that cute little pink house on the edge of the woods?”
“Mm, yeah.”
Every kid who grew up here knows about the Barbie house. It’s a pipe dream for anyone with a little imagination. Straight out of a fairytale.
“I bought it when Ms. Park moved to a retirement home. Hyunjinnie has always wanted to live there, so I negotiated with her to get a better price. Totally worth it, by the way. It’s great.”
Seungmin is suddenly hit by how much he’s missed. How badly he’s tried to avoid anything at all, even if it had nothing to do with what he’s been running from. At one point, Jeongin was his close friend. But now he feels like a stranger.
“Hwang Hyunjin? Are you two…?” Seungmin waves a hand vaguely around, questioning.
Jeongin has had a crush on Hyunjin since he was thirteen. Lovesick. Absolutely smitten. Right when Seungmin left, it seemed like maybe something may change. That Hyunjin finally realized that Jeongin had grown up.
“Married,” Jeongin holds up his left hand, simple gold band sitting on his ring finger. “About a year after you left, actually. You missed a lot, I guess.” Even through the subtle snark, Jeongin smiles.
Seungmin doesn’t know what he knows. If he knows what Seungmin’s done, or why he left, or tried so hard to stay away.
But, then again, Jeongin has his own reasons to be mad. Because Seungmin cut everyone out of his life as a consequence of his own anxieties. Stopped responding to anyone. Hoping that if he ignored it, it would all cease to exist.
He almost wants to say sorry now, even though it’s too late.
“Have you seen Yongbok yet? He’ll be around in like…” Jeongin pulls his phone out to check the time. “Ten minutes if you want to catch him.”
Seungmin’s throat closes up. Airways restricted. Maybe Jeongin doesn’t know after all. Or maybe he’s playing mind games. Either way, Seungmin chokes. “No— uh— I gotta—” he juts a thumb over his shoulder. “Gotta go— but— yeah.” Very smooth.
“Okay…” Jeongin extends the word. “Well, look— is your number still the same?”
“Yeah,” Seungmin croaks, nodding. His palms have started to sweat already. Brain ticking down the seconds to self destruction.
“Damn, thought maybe it changed when you quit responding,” Jeongin smiles. The extended silence between them is so awkward it hurts. “Sorry, I was joking. But, like, I’ll text you— Jinnie would love to see you.”
“Right. Okay, sure,” Seungmin says, already sidestepping. He has nine minutes to escape. “So— yeah. Go ahead. Sure! Bye, Jeongin.”
Jeongin stares after him as he goes. Shouts out a half-assed “Bye.”
Seungmin rarely wishes he were smaller, but he finds himself much too tall right now. When he was a kid, he’d cry because he was the smallest in his class. When he hit his growth spurt and shot up above everyone else, he prayed for the only time in his life, just to say thank you.
He feels so visible right now. Taking up so much space. Hot, humid air shoved down his throat, choking him up. Felix could walk around the corner at any moment. See Seungmin. And there’d be nothing to be done.
It’s stupid— that Seungmin thought he could avoid this. That he thought, maybe, Felix left. Hoped, more accurately.
Hot. It’s so fucking hot. Seungmin tugs at the collar of his shirt, but it’s not enough. He’s sweating, and walking as fast as he can, taking a hard right, veering out of downtown instead of towards the library.
He has limits. Sometimes he freaks the fuck out, and he can’t function for the rest of the day. It’s too hot.
Fingers shaking as he types, he sends a text to Minho. Trips over a crack in the sidewalk.
To Lee Minho
Sooyoung needs me at home, I won’t make it back today.
See you tomorrow.
The response comes in almost immediately;
From Lee Minho
mhm.
tell youngie she’s raised a terrible liar.
feel better, kid. i know it’s hard to be back.
That certain level of understanding that comes with knowing someone for so long.
Seungmin hates crying. But he can feel the urge stinging behind his eyes. His throat hurts, and his hands shake, and he’s overheating.
He flinches when a woman walks out of the bar down the road. Long, black hair, no purse on her arm. Only relaxes when she turns, and he doesn’t recognize the shape of her nose.
The funny thing about it is, he gets the same way in the city. Any time he sees someone who looks too much like someone else. Someone who he knew before. His breathing goes sporadic, and his heart aches, and he feels like he’s going to die until he manages to find somewhere to sit down.
A cold shower is better, if he has the means.
He shouldn’t have the means today, because he’s supposed to be at work. In the city, he doesn’t get to work for his sister’s best friend. He doesn’t get to skip just because he’s having another meltdown. Every upside comes with a down.
Seungmin pretends he doesn’t hear it when Mrs. Ahn calls to him from her door. He just hurries upstairs, and pushes into Sooyoung’s apartment as fast as he can.
Sooyoung’s apartment.
It’s his, too. All his stuff is here. This is where he grew up.
But he’s trying to draw a line.
Either way, he feels safe enough to breathe once he’s inside.
He kicks his shoes off, not bothering to line them up properly. He’s too sweaty. Too hot.
The shower is just cold enough to remind him that he’s alive.
Forehead to tile, embarrassed. He’s always so embarrassed afterwards.
Would it really be the worst thing in the world to run into Felix? Could it possibly be worse than making himself upset like this?
He’s stupid. Always has been. Terrible at dealing with his problems, too.
At least, once he gets out of the shower, he feels cold, instead of hot. He hates feeling too hot.
He ignores the face-down photo on his bedside when he goes to his room for clothes. He ignores his bedroom completely, really. Too many memories tucked away in the cracks in the ceiling. Settles on the couch instead.
It’s new. Sooyoung bought it last summer. Maroon, and kind of ugly, but comfortable. A small comfort, knowing that it doesn’t hold any memories. The old one had seen too much. Ghosts of touches, and echoes of fights. A kiss or three.
Seungmin likes the new couch.
Tomorrow he’ll have to deal with it.
Tomorrow is not today.
❂
Sooyoung comes home too early. Hours before Seungmin is expecting her.
She has a worried look on her face, and she stomps across the apartment and lays her hand on Seungmin’s forehead, checking for a temperature.
“What happened?” Her question is more of an order.
“Why are you here?” Seungmin volleys back, pushing her hand away.
“Minho said you ditched work, so I ditched work.” Her hands find their rightful spot on her hips once she determines he is not, in fact, sick.
Seungmin’s stomach twists with guilt.
Sooyoung works two jobs, just because of him. Because he needed help to pay for school, and everything else, and now she’s in the hole because of it. She’ll be further in the hole once Seungmin goes to law school.
The one time he brought it up she said, You’ll just pay me back when you’re making the big money, yeah? Don’t worry about it.
He worries about it.
“You shouldn’t be doing that for me.”
She cuffs him on the back of the skull on her way to the kitchen to grab a beer. “Fuck you, I can do what I want. Rotten child.”
The hiss of the can doesn’t make Seungmin as antsy as it used to. Sooyoung is nothing like Sunhee. She’s in control of herself, and rational, and she’s good at keeping herself and Seungmin alive.
“Do you want pizza? I got the kind you like.”
“Okay,” Seungmin mumbles, sinking into the couch. The shopping channel has been playing. Some mindless background for his mourning.
Sooyoung plops down next to him, handing over a can of pop, Seungmin’s favorite. She really did everything to make sure he felt okay here. And he’s just been a bitch about it.
“Wanna talk about it?” she asks, eyes on the tv.
“No. Not really,” Seungmin opens his soda. Setting it on the side table so he can cross his arms.
“Alright,” Sooyoung says, tapping her fingers on the cushion. He knows she’s nosy. That she wants to know exactly what’s wrong. But she’s been good at this— “As long as you promise me you’ll talk to someone about it.”
Seungmin sighs. He watches the numbers roll at the bottom of the screen, silly, over the top graphics to accompany them. “I’m sure Minho will force me to tomorrow.”
“Good,” she says, nodding curtly. “He should.”
“Maybe you two should butt out of my life.”
Sooyoung laughs. She lolls her head over to look at him, absolutely smug. “Yeah right. Nice try. It’s hard to have siblings that love you so goddamn much, isn’t it?”
“Minho is not my brother,” Seungmin scoffs.
“Not your real brother. But he’s your brother.”
Seungmin narrows his eyes, going for the kill. “Don’t you guys kiss each other when you’re drunk? That’s kind of fucked up, Sooyoung.”
“Well, he’s my husband, your brother in law, so that makes perfect sense,” she snipes back. Always too quick. Seungmin got it from her. She’s better at the game than him.
He gives up before she starts bringing up his greatest hits. Embarrassing moments. The time he cried when Minho beat him in Mario Kart. “Whatever.”
“That’s what I thought.”
They lapse into silence for a few moments. Sooyoung grumbling at the price of some fancy hair dryer. The stupid way the saleswoman is moving her hands.
Seungmin chews on his nails. Conversation. He knows how to make it. “Did you know that Yang Jeongin bought the little pink house by the woods?”
“Oh, yeah, I think I did hear that. Funny, huh?” She scrunches her nose. “He’s with the Hwang kid, right? Hyunjin?”
“Married,” Seungmin says. Because now he knows.
“Huh.”
“Yeah, huh.”
And that’s that. Feeling like everyone else is moving while he’s stuck in the past.
When Seungmin was thirteen, right after Sunhee left for the first time, he and Sooyoung got into a massive fight.
She was just a kid too. Eighteen. Trying to get Seungmin to eat something other than frozen pizzas, because he refused to eat anything else after everything happened. She made him food. Real, good food. And made him sit down to eat dinner.
He wouldn’t eat. She got upset. She was just a kid.
“Seungmin, you have to eat. You’re going to wither away.”
“You’re not my mom, Sooyoung. You’re not even my real sister.”
A devastating blow. Something he’s been acutely aware of since they were younger. The teachers at school giving Sooyoung trouble, trying to pick him up, because her surname was different than his, and no one cared enough to send a permission slip.
Half sister. She’s your half sister. Sunhee would always remind him, for reasons Seungmin can only assume would cause him great anger.
He told Sooyoung she’s not his real sister, and then he ran away from home.
Only made it down the street before he was crying too hard to keep going. Sooyoung drove by him in her cherry red, ninety-three Ford Festiva. She didn’t even yell. She just hugged him, and told him she was sorry. And they both cried, and went to the corner store to buy ice cream and more frozen pizza.
Sooyoung drove him to the edge of the woods. Parked on the street in front of the little pink house.
Sunhee always told them that one day, she’d buy that house for them all to live in. But then she left. And Sooyoung took Seungmin there, and said, “If she doesn’t come back, I’ll buy us that house instead of her. She won’t be allowed in.”
The frozen pizza in the back of the car was probably melting. Seungmin doesn’t know. He ate his ice cream, and told Sooyoung, “I’m sorry I said you’re not my real sister. I didn’t mean it.”
“I know, Minnie.”
Everything moves forward, but Seungmin gets stuck along the line.
Sunhee came back, but then she left again. She never sticks around.
Yang Jeongin bought the little pink house before Seungmin could even remember that he was promised it. And Hwang Hyunjin is his husband.
The shopping channel always sells hair products in the late afternoon, and Lee Felix still goes to the beach on his lunch break.
Seungmin came back, and everything is different, but nothing, really, has changed.
❂
“What happened yesterday?”
Seungmin looks over Minho’s shoulder, making sure Jisung is an appropriate distance away. He’s close, but he’s got his headphones on, bobbing his head along with his music, so that will have to do. It’s not that Seungmin doesn’t trust him, it’s just that he doesn’t know anyone anymore. He’s been gone for too long.
“I went to the beach.”
Minho stares at him blankly. “Did you talk to him?”
“Talk to who?” Seungmin turns away, reorganizing the pile of books he just organized. “You’ll have to be more specific.”
“Yongbok.”
Seungmin grimaces. “No. I left before he could show up.”
“You ran away,” Minho corrects. “Just like before. Just like you always do. Because you’re a little fucked up. Did you know that?” He squints, manhandling Seungmin’s chair back towards him. “Did you know you’re a little fucked up, Seungmin?”
“No,” Seungmin lies.
“Mhm. Time to put on your big boy pants. Because I know it’s eating you the fuck up inside, and I’m really tired of watching you deteriorate.”
Seungmin glares at him, lips twitching downwards. He twists out of Minho’s grasp. “That’s kind of gay.”
“I don’t care.”
Minho is so annoying. He knows everything, and everyone.
When he and Sooyoung came to the city for parent’s weekend last year, Minho ran into three people he randomly knew, right on the street. He introduced Sooyoung as his wife, and Seungmin as his son, and none of them batted an eye. Because Minho knows shit.
He’s convincing, and smart, and really fucking annoying.
And, unfortunately, he’s one of the only people Seungmin has ever been able to be really vulnerable with.
“It’s whatever, Minho. I’m just like her. I don’t know why anyone ever pretended I wouldn’t be.”
Minho’s face grows very serious very quickly. His mouth pressed into a flat line, hand catching Seungmin’s wrist. “You can be as self deprecating as you want, but that will never be true, Seungmin. I know that, and you know that, and your sister knows it too. Don’t say that shit about yourself in an effort to make it real. It will never be real.”
Seungmin swallows. He sucks in a breath through his nose. “How can you be so sure?”
“Because I know you went home crying yesterday because you’ve torn yourself up inside with guilt over something that happened four years ago,” Minho says. His eyes soften. “Because I know you. And I know you feel things, so, so deeply, and that's why we’re even having this talk at all.”
“I hate you,” Seungmin says, completely flat. “You’re stupid, and you smell. And you’re ugly, too.”
Minho smiles, the bastard. He drops Seungmin’s wrist, and leans back in his chair, and grins. “There it is. A case study in familial love. You’re nothing like her, Minnie.”
“Whatever. Stop looking at me, you freak me out.” He doesn’t, but Seungmin feels like his skin is crawling when anyone focuses any adoration on him for more than ten seconds.
“I’m going to eat you whole,” Minho threatens, but he backs off. Turns to the side to continue to work. But, apparently, still not done, “Are you afraid to see Yongbok because you’re afraid you’re still deeply in love with him?”
“That implies that I was deeply in love with him previously,” Seungmin swallows. Fingers twitchy.
Minho eyes him. Smirks. “Weren’t you?”
Seungmin doesn’t much care for this line of questioning anymore, he decides. Switching topics to one he knows will divert Minho’s attention.
“Jisung has a major crush on you. He has since we were fifteen.”
Since he came home with Seungmin after school to work on a project, and Minho was sitting in the kitchen, separating a bag of Skittles by color. Twenty years old, fucking lurking, because his roommate would constantly sexile him.
Seungmin remembers, very clearly, how Minho did not look up. How Jisung’s eyes widened when Seungmin said, “Why are you always in my house, you cretin.” and Minho replied, “Because I’m fucking your sister.” A lie, for the record. Both of them are gayer than a holiday parade.
Jisung tripped over himself. Tripped over his words when he asked Seungmin who the fuck was that? And never dropped it.
Down horribly for a man five years his senior, who wouldn’t give him a second glance. Minho didn’t even know who Jisung was until he applied to work at the library. Seungmin asked.
“No he doesn’t,” Minho says, so serious Seungmin almost laughs.
“Yes, he absolutely does.”
Minho turns around very suddenly. As soon as his eyes meet Jisung’s, Jisung yelps, and tumbles over, disappearing behind the shelf he’s standing behind.
Seungmin almost laughs at the light pink dusting Minho’s cheeks. The way his tongue pokes around inside his cheek.
“He’s too young for me,” Minho says. Maybe trying to convince himself.
“No he’s not. He’s almost twenty four. We’re all well into adulthood.”
Minho goes through the trouble of peeling a sticky note off his pad, crumpling it up, and chucking it at Seungmin’s head. “He doesn’t have a crush on me, you’re delusional.”
“And you’re bad at admitting what you want.”
“Pot meet kettle.”
“Touché.”
They hit the same wall they always do. The only solution would be for Sooyoung to dig them out, to say something that would demolish both of them at once. A master of the final blow.
There’s no choice but to move on. Seungmin organizing books. Minho turning back towards the computer, clicking around.
He speaks again a few moments later, wrenching his screen in Seungmin’s direction to see. “Yongbok has a book due on Friday. He always returns on the due date. I’ll make sure Jisung and I are elsewhere, but you need to talk to him. Then. Non negotiable.”
“I’m going to be sick on Friday.”
“No you’re not. I’m picking you up, and if you don’t come outside, I’ll tell your sister everything. Every fucking detail, Kim. I’m serious.” A serious threat. Minho’s usual swear of secrecy on the line. And he would follow through, that’s the thing.
Seungmin was going to have to face it eventually. Minho just knows he likes time to plan. Minho is a good brother.