Chapter Text
‘Esse oportet ut vivas; non vivere ut edas’
\\
Seungmin had been slowly drifting off to sleep when he heard it.
A ring.
With a groan, he rubbed his eyes, blinking away the lingering drowsiness before picking up the phone.
The call went through. He didn’t look at the name. He never needed to.
Now, Seungmin wasn't a child anymore. He was well past the ‘grown’ age of eighteen and he lived alone in a city quite far from home. Though, that had never stopped his parents from checking on him from time to time, or, precisely, every day, at around 7:30 pm.
Sure he should have been somewhat familiar with the occurrence by now. But when your major was business -- which meant having to work part-time as a waiter, which, in turn, messed up your already terrible sleep schedule – one couldn’t expect him to not be a little irritated with the seemingly sweet gesture.
His mother would have noticed anyway. She always did.
And she would have asked him if he had eaten yet, and he would have answered yes.
Seungmin didn’t think she would have been too thrilled to know that no, he hadn’t finished the meat she had brought for him a week prior – or that he had been living off boiled eggs and instant ramen for several days now.
It wasn’t that he was struggling financially. His family wasn’t either. Though it wasn’t like they were super well-off or anything, with his last year at uni approaching, plus his internships and rent, he ought to save some money whenever he could.
Besides, it wasn’t as though he needed three meals a day to function properly anyway. Evidently, after the call ended, he still managed to shower and worked on his assignments well past midnight.
Seungmin hadn’t even felt slightly hungry when he went to class the next day.
\\
“Here, try this Seungmin,” his mother had said, pointing at the fish plate.
He could practically hear the hesitation in her voice, yet he didn’t comment on it. In fact, he did not move at all – even when a small piece of said fish was placed on his bowl.
He had eaten it anyway.
He had not liked the taste.
He hadn’t blamed his mother for not knowing.
\\
Today was going to be a very, very long day.
It was one of those days when Seungmin had made the mistake of signing himself up for too many classes, all cramped together, each with barely 15-minute breaks in between.
At least he knew his boyfriend would be there with him through it.
‘Come hell or high water’, they said.
And Seungmin was a man in love.
—---------------------------------------------------------------------
After waiting what had felt like an entire lifetime, Seungmin managed to step out of the crowded elevator and made his way to his first class.
His eyes immediately scanned the room until they landed on a familiar pair of sharp, cat-shaped eyes.
He walked toward the student, slipped into the seat near the window – one that was always reserved for him, before beginning to rummage through his bag.
"Yah! Kim Seungmin! Are you seriously not going to greet your elder?" The student leaned in, keeping his voice just loud enough to reach him but not quite alarming to others.
Deciding to play along, Seungmin abandoned the scattered papers on his desk and offered a placid smile. "You're not my elder, hyung. You're my boyfriend."
Minho narrowed his sharp, cat-like eyes. "Well, with such blatant disrespect, you're on your way to an early breakup."
"Sure, hyung." Seungmin rested his chin on his hand. "You love me too much."
Minho scoffed and turned his attention to the whiteboard in front, though the reddening tips of his ears betrayed his indifferent front.
Seungmin thought it was cute. He was quite proud that he had managed to make the Lee Minho – the university’s heartthrob and the leader of the popular dance club – flustered.
Sometimes he still could not believe it.
What had started as another k-drama cliché -- Seungmin applying for the dance club in his first year, failing miserably, yet for some god-knows-what reasons, ones that Minho had refused to elaborate every time he asked – had somehow ended up with him getting an invitation.
Not for the team.
But for a date with the leader himself.
He couldn’t stress it enough, but being with Lee Minho had turned his life for the better.
For the first time in a while, he had felt cared for.
With his hyung, he could be himself. He could be bratty, and his hyung would still wait for him. He could be stubborn, and his hyung would still hold his hand, whisper comforting words, and practically drag him away to rest.
Hell, Minho didn’t even need to attend this class.
Yet, he was here.
With him.
And Seungmin liked to believe it was to not leave him alone.
—---------------------------------------------------------------------
“Have you eaten yet?” Minho asked.
Beside them, students were flooding the hall, frantically moving around toward their next classes.
The question shouldn’t have surprised Seungmin as it did.
Yes?
No?
It’s still too early?
He realized he hadn’t said any of those things when--
“Judging by your dumbstruck face, I guess not.”
“Sorry hyung. I was running late this morning, so I didn’t really pay attention…” he retorted.
It wasn’t a lie.
Both of them knew it.
Though, Seungmin had been running late quite often recently.
“I’ve told you,” Minho sighed, “don’t ‘sorry hyung’ me”
“I’ll get something later–”
“Tell me what you want. I’ll go buy it. It’s not like Miss Yoon is ever on time anyway.”
There it was.
His tone wasn’t that of demand, just worry. The thought swirled ugly in his stomach.
“Maybe bread,” Seungmin said quickly, “the sweet kind.”
“The one I bought you last time? From the convenience store?”
He nodded, sliding lower in his seat.
“Sure.”
There was a pause.
Seungmin made the mistake of thinking it was over.
It wasn’t.
“And milk. Chocolate flavour.”
Surely he couldn’t just tell Minho-hyung that ‘no, I don’t like that kind’, could he?
He could barely remember the last time he had drunk it.
“And milk,” Seungmin repeated.
After all, he wouldn’t want his hyung to be worried.
He could take care of himself just fine.
He felt fine.
And if he had eaten only half the bread, and barely one third of the milk carton, no one needed to know.
He would make it up later.
\\
Seungmin hated moving.
He hated it so much.
Why couldn’t he stay with his grandparents anymore?
Why couldn’t they have left him back in his house?
He could have taken care of himself.
He could learn.
Sure, he couldn’t cook,
and sure, he couldn’t even ride a bike to buy food.
But he had his friends.
Surely they would have helped him if he had asked?
Surely he would not have been so alone–
He hadn’t seen his grandparents in a long time.
He missed them.
—---------------------------------------------------------------------
There were whispers.
They were about him.
“His brain must be filled with food!”
“I mean, he can’t even solve it, and he calls himself a ‘good’ student”
A laugh.
“I mean, just look at him–”
They were laughing.
They were laughing at him.
At his body.
At him.
At him.
At him —
Stop it.
Stop laughing.
I’m a good student.
I just can’t solve it.
STOP –
“STOP IT!”
He was sure that it hadn’t been him.
Not his voice.
And yet …
They were still laughing– he was sure of it.
The teacher had told them to stop, but they kept laughing, they had kept talking about him.
He didn’t eat lunch.
His friend, Hyunjin was saying something.
He felt sick.
His head hurt.
He wanted nothing more than for the day to end.
And when Jisung told him about the other things he had heard, Seungmin went home.
—---------------------------------------------------------------------
“Did you see his face when he took off the mask?”
“Maybe he should not smile at all”
—---------------------------------------------------------------------
Curling into himself, with his knees drawn close and his head low, Seungmin prayed.
He prayed with no god in mind. He prayed for happiness, for health – to whoever heard him, whoever pitied him – he prayed for someone to come, for him to not be alone.
He prayed and prayed ‘till his tears dried,
‘till his strength was nothing but spent,
still, the door never opened.
And he only had himself to blame.
\\
It was 2:30 p.m. His last class of the day had just ended. Seungmin should have had about two hours left until his shift at 4:30.
He really hated Wednesday.
And his poor decisions in general.
“How can you look even more – what’s the word – dead than this morning?
Did you even sleep at all?”
Despite Minho’s rather spiteful tone, Seungmin knew he meant well.
“Yes, I did sleep, hyung. A whopping two hours, in fact.”
“Besides, I can probably add another hour to the timer if my beloved Minho-hyung can drive me home?” He winked for good measure. When his hyung looked nothing if not unimpressed, he pouted.
“You wish. I need to --”
“Yes, yes. You need to get to the restaurant early, prep the kitchen, and prepare for opening time,” Seungmin finished for him, “I would know, I work there.”
Then, with a smile, he added, “see you later, hyung. Love you.” He gave their still- intertwined hands a squeeze, took a step forward and pecked his cheek.
“Yeah, yeah. See you”
With that, Seungmin left. His mind wandered back to the image of his beloved’s reddened ears, and thought that he was no longer alone.
—---------------------------------------------------------------------
Seungmin could not sleep.
He would have loved to actually sleep for another hour, just like he had promised, but fate had decided to be a little crueller today.
The moment he laid his bag down, he heard it.
His phone rang.
Well, was this not one familiar sight?
His mother's profile flashed on the screen for a moment before he reached over and picked it up.
Seungmin was not exactly against his mother calling, sometimes.
But today was different.
His mother was calling him at 3 in the afternoon, unscheduled.
He should not have been bothered about it as much, the questions were the same as always.
“Do you have class today?”
“Yes.”
“What are you doing?”
“Just sleeping. I just got home. I’m tired.”
“Your eyebags are getting heavier. Don’t stay up late.”
“I know mom, it’s just that I have some assignments I need to finish–”
“You and your assignments–”
“It's a lot, mom…”
“Still, you need to go out more. And have you even signed up for your English class yet? And the Japanese class?”
“No, I haven’t had the time.”
Still lying on his bed, Seungmin seriously contemplated ending the call.
At least his irritation seemed to be getting across. He hoped she wouldn't take it to heart.
“Well, make sure to do it soon, okay?”
“Yes, mom.”
“And don’t forget to take your meds.”
“... I know.”
The line went dead, leaving only silence.
Seungmin really wanted to sleep.
—---------------------------------------------------------------------
Seungmin called in sick for work.
He did not text Minho.
Did not answer his call.
Seungmin hoped his hyung didn’t think he was ignoring him. He was not.
He had simply gone to sleep a little early today.
He would reply later.
When he woke up.
\\
Seungmin pulled the blankets tighter under his chin, his voice quiet. “I’m still feeling sick, mom… Can I stay at home tomorrow?”
His mother's face tightened on the phone screen. “You were sick yesterday too. What’s next? Do you want me to drop you out of school the next day as well?”
Squeezing his eyes shut, the cruelty of the threat ringing in his ears. He did not want that. “...I’m telling the truth, mom.”
He was really tired.
“Yesterday too, I was burning up. I think it was a fever…”
He had only just wanted to sleep.
Seungmin heard his mother scoff, as if she didn’t actually believe him. Frustration hit him, though, he needed to be quiet. He needed his mother's approval lest he would have to go back to school. And he didn’t want that. He didn’t want their pity. Didn’t need their apology. He would have felt better after tomorrow, he knew he would.
“Do what you want,” his mother said.
And to think I work this damn hard for you to be like this–”
The call ended.
…
“It’s fine.
You’re fine.
You’ll feel better after.”
Seungmin never got to sleep.
Instead, he distracted himself with 10 hours of watching his idol’s reality show.
He knew his mother would call the teacher for him.
He knew he would have to study even harder to make up for tomorrow.
Tomorrow, when his aunt asked, he would say that he was sick,
that he had taken his meds,
that he had eaten,
And if he had lied,
He knew that it would stay behind the closed door.
Then,
it would be no one’s fault but his own.
\\
Fuck.
Seungmin hadn’t thought he had slept for that long. It was way past midnight, precisely 1:20 a.m. It was late and he still had not replied to his hyung – like at all.
He should do it now.
But, wouldn’t hyung be asleep right now?
He knew Minho was not one to sleep early, but couldn’t rule out the chance of him being tired today either. What if the restaurant had been super busy today?
And Seungmin had simply decided to ditch him.
Wouldn’t he be worried?
Then again, his hyung would need to sleep. The last thing he needed was for someone to bother him in the dead of night.
Seungmin ended up not replying.
Again.
Well, he would have to eventually.
Maybe later.
His thoughts were not of the quiet type either. He knew he shouldn’t have been overthinking this. Minho loved him. He wouldn’t hold it against him. At most, he would scold him again for not taking care of himself – which he thought was a tad unfair.
He still rested well.
He was not dead yet.
And he had eaten–
He should have eaten something for dinner by now.
He had said he would make up for the bread and milk earlier…
…
He was thinking about his hyung again.
He had not checked his phone yet.
He had not wanted to touch it.
An alarm sounded.
One he had set for four in the morning. The scene appeared, then disappeared the moment he swiped the clock away.
—---------------------------------------------------------------------
It was six in the morning.
Seungmin did not get up.
He did not call in sick either.
He simply slept.
—---------------------------------------------------------------------
His phone had been ringing for the last thirty-something minutes.
With a groan, he fished for it, lowered the volume as much as possible–
and went back to sleep.
Until someone knocked on his door.
If he had been an honest person, he would have simply said: who in the hell was that?
Because clearly, whoever was at the door knocking had somehow passed the lock to the rental apartment and knew exactly which room was his.
And Seungmin was sure as hell that person was not his landlady.
His answer came when the knocking stopped and a voice spoke.
“Seungmin-ah. It’s just hyung. Please open the door.”
Ah.
He shot up immediately. Swallowing down the guilt lodged deep in his throat, he flung the door open. His hyung, his beloved Minho-hyung was there, standing in front of him, and God, he had missed him.
But he needed to calm down, lest he had him worked up again. Seungmin gripped the doorframe, fighting the urge to shrink under his boyfriend's gaze. “What are you doing here, hyung? And how did you even get up here?”
“That’s my question." Minho stepped inside, immediately scanning the disheveled state of the room. "You weren’t exactly responsive yesterday.”
Seungmin flinched, his fingers automatically knotting together in his shirt hem.
"Thought you were burned out. Again," Minho continued, his tone softening a fraction. "So I came by. The shop owner saw me standing stupidly in front of the gate and decided to pity me. Or you, hell if I know.”
Seungmin made a mental note to thank her later. His mother had reminded him about that many times before. He hoped he would remember this time.
“And no. I’m doing this for myself, because I want to. So move aside,” Minho continued, “unless you want the whole floor to rat you out for having a boyfriend?” He had the audacity to smirk after saying that. And Seungmin realized he was not God’s strongest soldier at all.
Still, he was thankful.
Minho-hyung had come after all.
He spared himself two minutes to let the thought sink in. Frantically closing the door behind him, he turned to said hyung, who was currently too busy assessing Seungmin’s sorry sight of an apartment.
“Wait– hyung, Minho-hyung-” That got his attention.
“Don’t you have class today??”
Minho hummed. “Well, don’t you?”
“Okay, that’s just not fair…
…I’m–
–tired.”
Seungmin winced. He did not sound the least bit convincing or tired at all.
“Seems well enough to me.”
He was about to say something, to elaborate, explain, defend himself but his hyung beat him to it.
Minho was holding his hand, he was looking at him with such softness -- one that was often reserved for his cats, rarely directly at him– which Seungmin thought was rather biased.
He tried not to think too much of it.
His mind seemed to have had other plans.
\\
“You're not going to eat that?” a voice asked.
“No, it's fine. I don’t really like fried… stuff.”
“What?” another voice said. “You seriously believe in those diet posts?” The voice huffed a laugh. Others seemed to agree.
Seungmin blinked. “No, I don’t–”
A hand reached for him under the shared table. Warm. Grounding. Familiar.
“More for me then!” the voice said.
He was looking at him now, eyes soft.
Seungmin couldn’t have been more thankful.
\\
Before he knew it, his hand had flinched away. The action drew a frown from Minho, though he didn’t comment on it. Seungmin was glad he didn’t.
Wordlessly, Minho got up and walked toward the kitchen counter. He opened a bag that Seungmin could have sworn had not been there before.
“I brought food. Just Kimchi-jjigae and some bibimbap. I'm going to heat this up and we can eat together,” Minho said. Not demanding. But left no room for argument.
Which was not something Seungmin had planned to do at the moment. Not when he knew that his hyung was just being kind and maybe–hopefully not, worried about him.
Still,
it was a lot.
Seungmin looked away. He hadn’t intended to stomach anything right now. The thought left a strange bitterness on his tongue.
His white apartment wall was surprisingly distracting the second time that morning.
He tried again, in vain, not to think about the smell coming from the kitchen.
\\
“What about that?” The voice asked, pointing at a small stall in the corner.
The stall was wrapped in colorful banners, its owner looked a little too young and too eager. It was a sweet shop, he noticed.
All too aware of the few candies in his pocket, Seungmin shook his head. He had already had enough sweets for the day.
“Then, how about that one? The bibimbap stall?” The voice spoke again.
Seungmin shook his head. “It’s too early.” It was not lunchtime yet, he had thought, bibimbap would have been too heavy.
The voice frowned but said nothing as it dragged him toward another stall.
“This?” Too oily, Seungmin shook his head.
“How about this? It’s delicious.” Too sticky, Seungmin shook his head again.
Another.
He had eaten it before. It had not been good then.
And another.
The line was too long.
No.
Another.
Too expensive.
No.
Eventually, they settled for drinks instead.
Lemonade.
Nothing too flashy.
The voice was quiet, weirdly so-
“I’m sorry..” He found himself saying.
The voice did not turn. He quickly added. “If you want, we can go back–”
“You should really learn to loosen up a bit. It helps.”
Seungmin froze. The warmth was still there, be it less than before, barely noticeable.
He noticed it anyway.
The lemonade had been a little too sour for his liking.
\\
Before the taste could linger, he was brought back to the present by the sound of shuffling. More accurately, the sound of plates being set down in front of him.
He had not registered when Minho had finished heating up the food. Had not noticed when he had sat down beside him. Seungmin really should have paid more attention.
He risked stealing a glance at the kimchi-jjigae – his favourite. A mistake he soon realized. For his stomach seemed to betray him.
Bitterness rushed to his mouth, his hands trembling beneath the table. He couldn't move them. He hoped his beloved had not noticed.
\\
“Oh come on-” a voice said. “Just try it, Seungmin. Everyone else has.”
“Yeah. It's just a skewer.” Oily and unhealthy– he had wanted to add.
The voice had not said anything. Seungmin felt his stomach churn at the sight.
It was just meat.
He had bought it with everyone else. He had seen it cleaned. Seen it cut. Had covered it in cooking oil. Hell, he had been there when his classmate skewered it.
It should have felt different than those he had seen on the street.
He had hoped the voice would say something.
Instead, the voice simply looked at him.
Everyone else did too.
\\
Minho was looking at him.
That much he knew.
It was frustrating, really.
He had eaten the dish before. Had genuinely liked it enough to order it whenever they went out. Not to mention, this was his hyung, Minho– his boyfriend’s cooking. One he had known to be nothing short of perfect, delicious and clean.
And yet, Seungmin could only stare. At the bowl that had been filled with the simmering broth somewhere along the line.
He couldn’t shake off the feeling that something was wrong. The further the silence stretched, the more his mind twisted it. Albeit slowly, he picked up the spoon, bringing it to his mouth.
Too oily. His brain supplied.
The smell hit him then,
It was too much, too many. He hated it.
“Come-”
“--on.”
That was it. He had swallowed it down.
“It’s good,” Seungmin said at last. He glanced at Minho, offering him a much grateful smile.
Across the table, Minho’s shoulders visibly relaxed. He told himself his hyung worried too much.
Together, they continued the meal in comfortable silence.
He had to finish the rest,
his insides gagged at the thought.
\\
It was a mistake.
He should have listened to his body.
But he didn’t. And now he felt sick.
A sharp, twisting cramp seized his stomach, stealing the breath from his lungs as if he had been punched. Which they might as well have, considering how many times he had gone to the bathroom already.
Seungmin was awfully aware of the pain in his abdomen. Of the way his uniform’s shirt clung too tight to his skin, the sweats pooling at his forehead. His steps were heavy as he dragged his legs toward the infirmary bed.
Earlier, he had made a call – calls, actually. He mentally corrected himself. Thanks to Jisung, bless his heart, for helping him all the way to the infirmary. His friend had insisted on waiting with him until his family arrived but as the call went through with his mom, Seungmin had deemed it unnecessary.
It was going to be complicated, he remembered thinking.
Later, when he found himself laughing at the irony of it all, in the same white room, with an IV line permanently stuck in his left hand, did he realize,
he really should not have eaten that skewer after all.
\\
By the afternoon, Minho had left.
He still had things to take care of at the restaurant. Despite himself, Seungmin did not comment on it. Though he was sure his hyung would call in sick for him.
The apartment was eerily quiet.
Nothing out of the ordinary.
Just … quieter.
He took a look at the kitchen’s counter.
Clean and empty.
Seungmin intended to keep it that way.
—---------------------------------------------------------------------
Despite doing almost nothing, Seungmin found the day agonizingly long.
Lying in his room, he ran a hand through his hair, exhaled, then let it fall limp against the bed. He couldn't recall the last time he had actually moved.
From the bed, he reached for his phone,
6:45 p.m.
He groaned, draping his arm over his eyes. He had hoped his mind would stay quiet for a while. Instead, he was constantly reminded of lunch earlier that day with Minho-hyung.
Seungmin couldn't shake off the odd feeling. He kept thinking something was– had been–wrong.
Except … it wasn’t.
He had made his hyung worried, so he had come by to check on him. Even though he had not exactly asked for the food, Minho-hyung had made them anyway because, as his beloved had said–it was his favourite.
He had been honest when he answered him, the food was good.
And Seungmin felt his throat tighten.
He could really use a glass of water.
Getting up, phone still in his hand, already rummaging for a mug. There should have been tea somewhere…
As it turned out, the tea he had brewed had already run out.
…yesterday.
Biting back a sigh, he headed straight to the cabinet, took out a tea bag and returned to the counter. All that was left was to wait for the water to boil, then he would have his tea.
A small happiness, he had hoped.
As if on cue, the phone vibrated in his hand. The call went by with little to no difference.
Albeit the fact that he had not gone to class today, hadn’t worked and on top of that, he had made his boyfriend come over and shove food down his throat.
Seungmin was not going to tell her all that.
“Are you still taking your meds?” his mother asked.
“Yes,” he answered too quickly.
“Make sure you don’t forget. Go buy more if they run out, you hear me?” Concern laden in her tone.
He didn’t think he could trust his words, so instead, he nodded
“And look out for the English and Japanese lessons, okay? The year is almost over, you should get on with it, Seungmin-ah.”
…
He opted to look at the kettle. The sound of water boiling was picking up, it should have been close to done now.
His mother’s sigh caught his attention. “Just… sleep early, take care Seungmin-ah–
“--Visit soon okay?”
Seungmin’s breath hitched.
The kettle’s shrieking filled the kitchen.
Then, came silence.
Complete and utter silence.
Seungmin decided that plain water was enough to drown the roughness in his throat.
He tried not to think about how the fridge door sprung open,
He tried not to think about the eggs in his hands,
He tried not to think about how the shells cracked all too easily between his fingers, or the scalding heat burning his throat as he swallowed them down, one after the another,
He failed.
Because when he opened the fridge the next day, he counted 6 eggs where there should have been 10.
Seungmin was sure he could make it up then too.
—---------------------------------------------------------------------
Friday, 6 a.m. The screen flashed.
The most dreadful day of the week, if you asked Seungmin. He wanted nothing more than to crawl back to his bed, pull the cover over his head and just sleep. A text from his hyung stopped him from doing just that.
Fuck him and his poor ass decision-making skills really. Seungmin loved Minho-hyung, but sometimes he really wanted to punch him in the gut – highly impossible– he regretted ever listening to him and picked ‘Track and Field’ as his selective course. ‘Cause apparently, there was a limit to how many students could select “Table tennis” instead – and Seungmin had been stupidly – emphasis on the stupid– in love with Lee Minho.
And no, having Minho driven him to the other campus did not make up for it.
—---------------------------------------------------------------------
The drive was long. Saved for the traffic, it wasn’t entirely unpleasant.
Just… quiet.
And Seungmin loved quiet. Albeit uncomfortable ones.
…
Well.
Except now.
The bitterness of the morning coffee still lingered on his tongue. He had opened the fridge earlier, double–triple checked it, and sure enough, the eggs were gone.
Rubbing his temples, he had told himself that, he would only eat a snack bar in the morning, then have a cup of warm milk.
It sounded so much better in his head.
Apparently, however, he had not accounted for how hungry he was after yesterday’s lunch.
An oversight, Seungmin concluded.
“Visit soon okay?” His mother’s voice echoed.
Maybe he should…
A hand over his own pulled him back to the present. “You’re alive?”
Seungmin turned, eyes shifting from where they were at the window view to look at his beloved. He huffed a laugh, one that came out rougher than he had intended. “Debatable.”
Minho hummed. “With that attitude, this early? I’d say you’re living well,” He smiled, soft but didn’t quite reach his eyes. Something was bothering him, Seungmin noted.
He decided to give their now intertwined hands a squeeze. “Before you ask, hyung, yes, I had breakfast. A sumptuous one, even,” he added, “So unless you want me to throw everything up , you might want to not strangle the wheel.”
To be honest, he had expected his hyung to snap back, keeping up their usual cat and mouse chase, but he didn’t.
“Good,” Minho said. Simple. Yet something tugged at his stomach, forcing him to look away.
He tried not to think about the way Minho’s shoulder dropped slightly, or how his grip on the wheel had loosened.
Again, he failed.
\\
“Mr. Park! Can Seungmin sit this one out too? He said he had a stomachache. Right, Seungmin?”
“...Yes,” he answered. Head hung low.
Mr. Park - their P.E teacher appeared hesitant. Then, he sighed.
“Fine”
“OH-Oh! You heard him! Be happy! YAY!”
Bless Jisung and his heart, without him, Seungmin would probably just swallow it down and go along with it really.
He was glad. Really, really glad. He didn’t think he could run today anyway—
\\
“Kim Seungmin. You’re falling behind again! You need at least 20 seconds to pass, and you’re nowhere near the goal.” His teacher scolded. “Seriously, what are you boys even doing??”
“Here, you’ll need it.” A shock of blond hair leaned into Seungmin's line of sight.
“Thanks, Lix.” He snatched the bottle out of his friend’s hand, tipping his head back to greedily drown his burning thirst.
Felix hovered over him, waving his hands in frantic motions. "Seriously though, has hyung even fed you at all? Youlook... rough."
He lowered the bottle, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "I'm- what- I'm not that weak?!"
Felix's brow pinched. He lunged forward, trapping his wrists before he could tuck them out of sight. “See!?? Where’s the meat??”
He ripped his hands from Felix's grip, crossing his arms tight over his chest in search of a comeback that wouldn't come.
“I’m fine, Lix.” When his friend looked at him with his brows raised, unconvinced, he added. “Okay… I’m a little tired– maybe.”
Felix tensed. He hadn’t said anything more. Seungmin wished he had.
He ought to be honest now.
Seungmin exhaled, “I’m still on my meds…” He said, slowly. “They’re still working fine– good enough” he corrected himself.
Throughout, his friend’s gaze never left him. An ugly feeling clogged his throat, threatening to get out. He swallowed it down. Still, his stomach was hurting a bit now.
“There’re more supplements too. Most are now…” A lot more, he didn’t say.
“The herbal ones? Don’t you need to go back to get that?” Felix asked.
“No. The normal medical ones. Mom said that it was better to focus on one type of…” The words dragged. “... treatment.”
Felix seemed to brighten up at that. “So, no more poison-looking bowl of blackness?”
A passable laugh escaped his mouth.
“Seungmines Lix. No more poison-looking bowl of blackness” He echoed. “Still, the new meds make me drowsy at times, worse hungry and moody at others,”
“Probably why I look tired?” Seungmin tried.
A beat passed.
Something akin to relief passed through him as Felix nodded. “Make sense, I guess,”
He continued. “Still, tell me if you need anything? Like anything at all?”
“Okay.” Seungmin allowed himself to laugh at his friend’s antics.
“Thank Lix.”
“Anytime.”
\\
Seungmin hated being in the hospital.
It was cold, it smelled disgusting, there were way too many people in the same place, with little to no privacy or quiet at all.
The room he was assigned to was not even his. He had to share it with 4 other people and they would not stop asking him ‘why was he here?’-- a question he wished he knew the answer to.
Seungmin would like to believe that he was once a healthy child.
He was tall, more so than his peers. He weighed averagely, appropriate for his age.
He ate 3 meals a day, each on time and nutritious, as his grandmother had put it.
He slept at 9 p.m. No phone on his bedside. He woke up at 5. He even had a rest between 1 to 2 p.m to ensure he wasn’t tired in the afternoon. He played baseball almost every other day. And when he didn’t, he went for a walk instead.
Seungmin was a healthy child.
Until he was not.
Seungmin felt dizzy.
He had been dizzy a lot lately.
His stomach hurt.
So did his left hand.
The room wasn’t the least bit quiet.
Yet, he felt like suffocating anyway.
\\
The taste had not left him for a while.
“Hyung.” Seungmin shifted in the passenger seat, his eyes fixed blankly on the dashboard. “Do you have any more of the mint candies?”
Without taking his eyes off the road, Minho blindly fished into the center console and tossed a small plastic wrapper into Seungmin's lap. “There.”
He immediately tore into the plastic.
"You didn't bring any today?" Minho glanced over, his brow furrowing.
“No. I’m completely out.” He shoved the mint into his mouth, desperate for the sharp, artificial cold to numb his tongue. The flavour brought a sense of familiarity. He had always loved it. “I should buy some more.”
A pause.
With his new found sweetness, Seungmin turned to rest his head against the car window. The conversation earlier with Felix be dammed. All he could feel now was the numbness in his legs after running a few laps more. He was glad he didn’t have to work today.
And certainly he would not cook either. Lunch could be two boiled eggs or a bag of shin ramyun for all he cared. Seungmin needed to do some grocery shopping anyway. Milk, maybe radishes and some vegetables. Lest the ramyun turned out too spicy—
“Ouch!”
Seungmin yelped, slapping Minho’s hand away before he could hit him again.
“Hyung–” he whined. “What was that for?? -"
“Kim Seungmin–,” Minho scoffed. “No wonder why you ran out so quickly–”
“What are you talking about??” Seungmin cut in.
“You can’t be serious. You can’t go and complain about buying new ones when you just ate like, what– half the bag of candies just now?” He followed his hyung’s line of sight.
“And don’t come to me later when you have a toothache or or —” Minho’s voice drowned out in the background. All Seungmin could see was the candy bag.
Half empty, like his hyung has said.
He reached into his pocket.
Empty wrappers.
Huh?
“Kim Seungmin, are you even listening–”
.
..
…
“You really eat a lot of those, huh?” Seungmin knew that voice. It was his mother’s.
“What is this– the second bag already?”
“Didn’t your grandpa buy you four bags just two days ago? He nodded.
“The least you can do is clean up after yourself. I'm serious, Seungmin-ah. Wrappers everywhere!" That belonged to his father. He was pointing, his eyes scanned around the room. His older sister’s room.
His mother sighed. “Tone it down, Seungmin-ah. You know your stomach isn’t well.”
Then, they left.
His father's voice could still be heard outside, Seungmin chose not to listen.
Alone in the shared room, he hid another bag– one filled with empty candy wrappers.
He would throw it away later.
When his parents weren’t there.
…
..
.
“Seungmin?”
“Sorry hyung,” he said quietly, not quite looking at him. “I’ll tone it down.” The candy dissolved on his tongue, its sweetness had faded, leaving only the sticky and sharp aftertaste, one that left him craving for more.
Seungmin could no longer focus on the scenery, or whatever his hyung was saying– if he was even saying anything at all,
he had missed the taste of mint in his mouth,
And in the midst of it, he had missed the concern written all over his hyung’s face, the rigidness in his posture.
Later, Seungmin had asked to be dropped off at his apartment.
There were six eggs left anyway.
—---------------------------------------------------------------------
The car came to a stop.
Seungmin pushed the door open. He hadn’t stepped out yet.
“Call me later?” he said.
The words lingered.
“Okay,” Minho continued. “I’ll call.”
Seungmin walked up to his apartment.
He took the stairs.
He imagined his legs screaming at him with every step.
Seungmin rummaged through his bag for the key, inserted it into the lock, and pushed the door open. Stepping inside, he dropped said bag onto the couch and headed straight for the bathroom.
He ought to wash the sweat off his face first.
Then…
He might as well clean his place too.
With that thought in mind, Seungmin grabbed his iPod and connected it to his phone. Before long, music blasted in his ears as he began tidying up.
‘Peppermint Candy’ was playing.
How ironic.