Chapter Text
Fuck.
He had been prepared for a bad outcome of his latest politics test but the grade on the paper surpassed his already extremely low expectations - if there had been any in the first place. It wasn’t like he hadn’t studied, in fact, he had spent hours and hours reading through his papers, and the chapter of his books had written notes down over and over again to get a glimpse of the world of politics. Although as soon as he had sat in class, looking at the questions on the test sheets in front of him, his head had remained empty, unable to recall even the slightest information about the topic.
Who needs politics anyway? It doesn’t make any sense after all.
His teacher gave him one of those I know you can do better looks, surrounded by the chit-chatting of the other students of his class, getting ready to go home, looking forward to their short two-week vacation break. Of course, he could have done better if it was something that actually made sense to him, was logic, and convinced him of being greater than himself - like algebra or the great mystery about the purpose of life. It had nothing to do with reality but made so much sense inside his head, and was even meditative when he challenged himself to find a solution for a certain problem. There always was a way, an answer for x, unfortunately finding possible answers for x wasn’t that easy in real life, as humans and simple human interactions were much more complicated to understand.
But you’re good at copying and showing them what they want.
It was true that most of the time he had no idea what he was feeling and acted on the emotions he had learned others wanted to see from him as a response, living in the narrative of his own world almost his whole life. He loved watching people, their behavior in certain situations and it made him a perfect actor inside his own life. In class, he often observed the other students, witnessed girls crying over boys breaking up with them after only two weeks - in his opinion a questionable period of time to actually get to know someone and fall in love with them. On rare occasions, when he was outside all by himself or hanging with friends, his mind was trying to figure out other people’s agendas, which might motivate them to do certain things. Though, nobody was asking him anyway.
However, when people asked him what he wanted to do with his life, what career he wanted to build he had absolutely no clue what answer to give. If he judged by the things he loved doing, then he would probably be an artist or a dancer. He loved spending his free time sketching and dared to imagine himself being a famous and loved artist someday.
Wouldn’t it be cool to be a tattoo artist? Or maybe a rockstar, though you can’t even play any instrument.
The dream of being a professional dancer had long died, especially since he swallowed the bitter pill that there were kids out there getting all the support they needed from a very young age. Their parents would bring them to their classes, making sure they get the best teachers, participate in competitions, and build their careers. For him though, there was no support system waiting at home and his own family had waited over a month before they went to the doctor with him after he had hurt his knee badly in dance practice when he was fourteen. Even after having surgery, the damage was done and by now only a light scar on his right knee reminded him of his shattered dreams.
Minhyuk was fully aware of walking on a thin line between reality and dreams when he packed his backpack and walked out of school that day - actually he was pretty much aware of it every single day of his life. Nevertheless, no matter how hard he tried to kill his dreams inside his head, there was one invisible part of him still being hopeful. He could only wonder what kept him going every single day.
You’re not wanted and you have no idea what to do with your life.
In a world full of monsters it’s hard to actually see the beauty in the little details drawn by fairy tales.
The whole world was made out of monsters and small, but also wonderful creatures, fireflies, fairies, sparkling in the night like little wonders of nature. They sang their songs, only audible in the wind blowing the wind chime, and only a few could understand the words behind as only a few people on earth were able to understand the language of dreams.
Magic happens in fairy tales. Princes came to rescue the damsel in distress from the terrifying, monstrous creatures hiding in the shadows. It was all ending in a beautiful gown, with a wedding in a huge castle and living happily ever after. There was always hope, always patience, and the possibility of rescue. However, there were also dark forests cutting off the sunlight, making you dizzy, and once you hopelessly lost your way, it slowly made you disappear in the fog of your own mind until you become part of the forest yourself.
Silence welcomed him when he opened the door to the apartment where he lived alone with his mother. His parents had divorced when he had been around a year old. His mother had had all rights to do so as most of the people in town had already known about the affair his father had had with another married woman, who’d also left her husband to be with him. People were hurting each other all the time, trying to make things work even though they had no common ground, no future together in the first place.
And you have the unpleasant honor of being born.
The realization always hit him that neither would he be saved by a prince in shining armor nor was there any magic worth talking about - or a happy ending. He was part of the dark forests, the misery that was his everyday life and there seemed no way to end it. Seven pale scars on his left arm were silent witnesses of the measurements Minhyuk had taken to restrict his own feelings from overwhelming him. Despite being good at copying pleasant and wanted emotions, he was unable to cope with his own negative ones so he was cutting them away. At first, it had been a joke amongst his friends in junior high school, daring each other to cut the back of their hand with small glass shards they had found near an old construction building.
A harmless test of courage had become a common practice for Minhyuk, exchanging emotional misery with physical pain. It had never been about getting attention from others, showing off the scars to his mother or his teachers, friends, or whoever as a voiceless cry for help, but to fix himself from falling apart. He always took great care of his cuts, disinfected his skin before and after the process, patching it up as if to tell himself I got you .
Feeling the pain and seeing the blood leaving the cut, covering his milky skin allowed him to take a deep breath, stopped the world from spinning for a moment, and made him feel numb but alive at the same time - as long as the wound itched his skin.
But are you?
The clock showed half-past six and his mother would usually come home around 8 p.m. so he had the whole apartment for himself, every day except for the weekends and if Minhyuk had been a stereotypical seventeen-year-old boy it would have meant having friends over all the time, enjoying his youth and make stupid mistakes. Instead, Minhyuk walked over to the kitchen after kicking off his trainers, throwing his backpack in his room, and prepared coffee before checking the insides of the freezer.
“Pizza it is,” he mumbled to himself as he took out the package, unwrapped the deep-frozen food that was probably questionably low on healthy ingredients and placed it into the oven. After setting the right temperature, he switched the TV on, sitting down on his bed to make his homework. Yes, he could have been a normal teenager rebelling against the world, smoke, drink, have sex and breaking hearts just like his classmates, instead, he tried to stay on track, doing his homework and hopefully pass his final highschool exams - even though he had no idea what to do next.
He was by far not happy with his life, especially since he rarely felt alive, seen, valued, and had no idea why he was working so hard to get his high school degree when he hasn’t even taken any entrance exams to seal off his next step.
You’ll figure it out.
There was still some time and he could actually discuss it with his boyfriend when he was visiting him over the weekend. Right, as if he hadn’t been a failure in his mother’s eyes before, he had outed himself as gay when he was thirteen not knowing that it would blow off like a punch into his face. It turned out that his family and society wasn’t that welcoming for homosexuality, though, Minhyuk still hadn’t figured out why. Wasn’t love supposed to be a positive feeling everyone was longing for? Why was the gender of two individuals falling in love concerning other people?
They say it’s unnatural.
Without having any intentions to do so, Minhyuk was already rebelling against the world, with his bright Bordeaux-red dyed hair, his sexual orientation, and probably the mere fact of being alive - even though his mother always claimed that she loved him, had wanted him.
Although there was just a huge difference between the existence of spoken words and practical actions and no matter how much Minhyuk tried to read her, to understand her actions she remained a heavy book with blank pages to him. He was so attached to her or rather the thought of honoring this piece of a family he had no matter how much it dragged him down as if slowly drowning him in his own blood in the middle of the dark forest where nobody would find him.
She had promised to go shopping with him this weekend and once again he was following her voice through the misty fog, leaving the safe path behind, believing her words even though he should have known better by now. Minhyuk seemed to be waiting, always waiting for someone to actually need him, remaining motionless and a blank page himself.
But your boyfriend likes you.
Yes, he could endure walking through the unknown as there was at least one person who liked to be with him - if there hadn’t been the problem that his boyfriend lived six hours away and they only stayed in contact over social media and occasional phone calls.
Thoughtfully, Minhyuk spun the pen between his long slender fingers, looking down on the math problems in his book, looking over to the TV, showing the top 100 music charts he wasn’t really interested in but gave him some kind of white noise in the background. A shrill sound coming from the kitchen announced the completion of his coffee so he got up to pour himself a cup, enjoying the rich aroma wafting into his nose. It always gave him a slight impression of safety and home when he could sit down with a cup of coffee in the afternoon, solving his problems and getting some junk food into his slim body.
Every once in awhile Minhyuk would check his phone, hoping for a message of his boyfriend - desperately, as if he was the only one he could actually rely on and the only person that could give his life meaning and a purpose. Minhyuk would do everything for him, even though he wasn’t treated as well as one would think he would be.
But it doesn’t matter, does it?
Foolish as he was, Minhyuk prepared his mother’s dinner when it was almost time for her to come home, just some rice and chicken breast, nothing fancy. He had already placed her wine bottle in the freezer for a short while because that was how she liked it. Everybody liked his mother, she was hardworking and tough and wasn’t one to spare on her charms when attracting men. However, she also used Minhyuk to feel better, making him look worthless and ungrateful on every possible occasion.
Don’t be so ungrateful.
The sound of a key pushing inside the lock came from the door, followed by the said door opening for a short, middle-aged woman with long blond hair. She looked stressed and exhausted when she threw some letters on the sideboard in the hallway, where unpaid bills had already piled up, slipping out of her shoes and jacket walking into the kitchen.
“Ah, you’re cooking?” She looked over to the stove, rubbing her neck and looking for a bottle of wine.
“It’s for you,” Minhyuk said and immediately stepped over to the freezer to pull out the bottle of wine, placing it on the kitchen table. “I set it cold already.”
“You’re such a sweet boy.” It came out as a relief, a mere sigh as she reached for the bottle first, opening it, before taking a glass and filling in the red liquid, taking a long sip from it. Her preference for alcohol had long overstepped the line of indulgence to the extent of addiction and all Minhyuk could do was watch and stay quiet as there was no use speaking his concerns out loud. She’d compare herself to men as it was socially acceptable for them to have a beer every day, so why couldn’t she drink a whole bottle of wine every night?
Minhyuk knew she didn’t mean what she said, yet, he always hoped that maybe, maybe she might look up and ask about his day. But nothing, all he could do was watch her filling her plate, not showing any interest in him and as the foolish boy he was, he just tried to fill the silence with words.
“I got my politics test back today and as expected it’s just not my thing.” He smiled, tried to be cheerful, and lift her mood a bit, giving her a home that took away the weight off her shoulders at least for a few hours.
“The only thing you can learn from politics is that you get away with everything when you’re just corrupt enough. Who cares that I have a diploma and work my ass off to just pay the bills while those assholes just take all the money off my paycheck? This is what you learn in life.” His mother was angry again, pulling her shirt over her head and slipping her bra off to hang it over the kitchen chair, taking her wine bottle, glass, and the plate to walk past him into her bedroom.
“All this work for nothing. Everything just costs money, money, money, and nobody is giving you anything back.” She continued yelling through the apartment, while Minhyuk remained in the kitchen, trying to keep his smile up that slowly crumbled off his face as he put the leftovers inside Tupperware boxes, playing the used kitchenware into the dishwasher. He always felt helpless, unable to do anything, guilty for needing food and shelter from her, not having a job on his own.
“I’ll do better, I promise I- I can look for a job to help you,” he tried again, standing in the open bedroom door, maybe to have the illusion of his mother actually having a conversation with him. He was so desperate and needy for her attention, trying to find a solution so she might actually love him, accept him as her child instead of making her angry all the time.
“Don’t be ridiculous. When will you find time to learn? Do you want me to look like a bad mother for not earning enough money to take care of you? We’ll figure this out, we always did.” She wasn’t looking at him but fumbling with the remote to find the right program to distract her from life at least for a little bit. It wasn’t fair that she always used we as if they were a team when clearly they weren’t even on the same page, nor reading the same book.
“I’ll leave you to it. Sleep well,” Minhyuk said after a long pause, just standing there doing nothing was leading nowhere and only increased the distance between them despite them being here in the same apartment, breathing the same air, sharing the same blood and a surname she had never wanted in the first place, so it was probably better if he went to bed as well, closing the door to his mother’s bedroom after saying good night.
-
The next morning began like every other Saturday morning and any other day for Minhyuk. He woke up early to take a long shower and get himself ready for a walk with the neighbors’ dog - an elderly couple unable to walk their dog those ten kilometers Minhyuk could walk. They were always so thankful for him offering help and for Minhyuk it was a great excuse to actually leave the house and get some fresh air. Normally he wouldn’t just go out on his own, too uncomfortable of people looking at him even though they might not even be doing it.
Why do you feel so haunted all the time?
It had gotten colder, so Minhyuk buried his nose deeper into his scarf, felt the material of the leash in his gloved hand as he walked away from the residential area over the street and down a small path that led him on a more isolated route to the park near the museum. There weren’t many people outside at this time of the day, sleeping in from their exhausting jobs or just allowing themselves to relax and being lazy once in a while. The soil was slightly frozen and Minhyuk watched with a smile on how his little companion jumped through the fallen leaves excitedly, filling the air with rustling noises. The dog was a dachshund of three years, always energetic and cheeky. Minhyuk could remember that one time he let him off the leash to play with other dogs in the park only for him to run away, greeting Minhyuk happily on the other side of the park as if nothing had happened.
Ever since that day, Minhyuk wouldn’t let him off the leash anymore but played with him, changing the ways to the park every now and then to keep things exciting. He loved the cool, fresh air on his cheeks, the sound of the wind softly swaying the top of the trees, the peaceful scenery that couldn’t be compared to anything else. It was odd but when he was out here, getting the impression that he was all alone, the only human walking along the lake with his companion, Minhyuk felt more at ease than being around people ever allowed him to be.
How can you feel less alone when you’re actually alone?
He didn’t know. All he knew was that it felt good, that he could breathe and forget about his anxiety and all his problems for a little bit and reflect on himself, feeling his body. His mind was at ease and there was no threat of the darkness swallowing him whole any second even though he was always alarmed when he was at home, knowing his mother was unpredictable. Yet, Minhyuk found himself always hoping while at the same time he was always crushed by reality just moments later.
Dongwoo, his boyfriend, hadn't messaged him back the previous day either and Minhyuk already wondered if something had happened, if he had done or said something wrong. He had laid in bed, until late at night scrolling through their conversation, typing another message asking if he was okay, wishing him good night to figure out if it might have been him or if his boyfriend was just really busy.
What if he’s seeing someone else? It never stops.
He didn’t want to think about it, though it was too real, too tangible since it had happened before, and still, Minhyuk had taken him back, afraid of being alone and too used convincing himself that it would get better. People, especially people in relationships, made mistakes all the time, didn’t they? How was one supposed to know when it was actually unforgivable and enough? Maybe he was too clingy again, it had been a problem before and apparently one had to differentiate between sex and relationships as well - especially if one was a gay man.
The social construct of monogamy was apparently of no value in a gay relationship - at least when one asked Minhyuk’s boyfriend. Dongwoo had made it pretty clear that sleeping with only one person was more a straight thing to do and he wasn’t willing to content himself with jerking off only because Minhyuk lived so far away and couldn’t be with him to satisfy his needs.
But was it really just a social construct? Minhyuk could only wonder as he couldn’t find it in him to do the same, as he valued trust, loyalty, and the security of having that one special person he could rely on. Dongwoo was his very first partner and he didn’t want to disappoint him, although he was questioning that Minhyuk was really gay in the first place since Dongwoo was pretty much interested in anyone he could fuck. His boyfriend wasn’t only questioning it, even encouraging him to look out for other people to explore and broaden his horizon, so maybe his own open-relationship-agenda could be justified even more as the only right choice for gay and bisexual men to be in a relationship.
If it’s the right thing to do and the way you’re supposed to be, then why does it feel so wrong?
A tear slowly ran down his cheek and was dragged away by the cold breeze, which pulsed like a vein, a distorted heartbeat in the distance, making Minhyuk wonder if it might have been his own. Truth was, he didn’t really know how he felt, had no name for it, though he could feel that something remained underneath, deep down, unreachable under a heavy cover of numbness. Buried like dreams that had died along the way.
He found himself standing at the bank of the lake staring down the thin layer of ice that floated over the water so effortlessly, before turning his attention on his little companion jumping up to his leg in excitement, laying down into the cold grass as soon as Minhyuk squatted down with a slight smile, scratching his belly.
“Why does it have to be so complicated all the time, hm?” His voice was soft as he caressed the bristly fur of the dachshund, who looked at him so honest, so loyally, puffing in complete satisfaction that for a brief moment the world seemed to be not so bad, okay even. “I wished it could last.”
It never did. After he returned the dog to his owners, Minhyuk went back home, finding that his mother still hadn’t gotten up and neither had his boyfriend texted him back. With a heavy sigh, he slipped out of his coat and shoes, to prepare some breakfast for himself and coffee for his mother, who never ate breakfast - or ever sat down with him to eat and talk to provide at least the illusion of family.
With his cup and bowl of cereal in hand, Minhyuk walked over to his room, grabbing his sketchbook that was placed openly on his desk, turning through the pages filled with studies of everyday objects like the wrinkling of his blankets, his coffee cup standing in pure sunlight casting a long shadow but overall it was full of eyes and lips. He stopped at the latest project he was working on at the moment, just lips so closely together that they were almost touching yet it wasn’t too much and created such an intimate moment that it made Minhyuk’s heart aching.
He had never been a fan of plump nudity, thirsting over half-naked superstars in various teen magazines like his classmates and whenever he saw similar pictures of his boyfriend, showing off his defined body, all he felt was awe for the aesthetics. Minhyuk appreciated the fine lines creating a full image of a body but there was never anything sexual about it. On the other hand, seeing people in love looking at each other like there was nobody else in the world, holding hands, exchanging soft kisses was something that made his heart beat faster. He believed in romance, in finding someone that just fit, though his beliefs - as so often - seemed to have no place in this world.
You have to act like it’s really turning you on. It’s not normal that you can’t feel anything and dream of this unrealistic kind of love that doesn’t exist. You have to fit in.
He really wished he could feel something and just stop feeling so wrong in his own skin, his own life all the time.
Many people, even his mother thought he was talented, yet in the end, it was worth nothing, just lines on paper, which would lead him nowhere and would always remain just that: An imaginary image on a piece of paper. No more, no less.
A sigh got stuck inside his throat as the bedroom door opened and his mother announced her presence and making him shut the sketchbook, hurrying into the kitchen to pour her some coffee, even preparing it with the perfect amount of milk and sugar, so all she had to do was taking her medication and sit down with one of her favorite magazines and coffee to start the day. It was the usual Saturday routine. Every day Minhyuk and his mother spent together was like walking on eggshells, being careful about any word he said, never getting too excited when she actually showed kindness, knowing very well that in the end she wasn’t really paying attention to him, knowing that all her promises were empty ones and her words meant nothing at all.
Dressed in a bathrobe, and probably nothing underneath, as usual, his mother stepped into the kitchen, performing her usual routine and grabbing the cup of coffee Minhyuk had prepared.
“Morning,” she mumbled into the cup and took a sip, instantly grimacing. “It’s almost cold.” Whenever she frowned, a deep wrinkle appeared between her eyebrows, already deep enough to be seen even when her face was relaxed, telling tales of rough times that hadn’t allowed any room for fun or enjoyment.
“I just poured it into the cup,” Minhyuk tried to explain, pretty sure it was because of the milk he had added that came out of the fridge.
“Then maybe the coffee maker is broken. I can’t have this, it’s not even that old.” She put the cup into the microwave to heat it up again, while Minhyuk remained silent, knowing all too well that the outcome would have been pretty much the same if she had prepared the coffee herself. Although, there would have been nobody else to blame but herself, although, since Minhyuk had done it exactly like her, he was the one to blame.
Why is it never good enough?
“Can you drive me to the train station tomorrow?” Whenever Minhyuk asked her for a favor, something he wanted, he felt selfish, bad even for wanting something and he felt his body becoming tense and his heart rate increasing even if he just asked such a simple question, which shouldn’t have been a big deal at all.
“When?” She wasn’t looking at him, taking her warmed-up coffee cup out of the microwave to take another sip, apparently satisfied with the temperature this time.
“Around 1 p.m.” Minhyuk swallowed, looking down on the floor for a moment and felt his hands getting sweaty. Why did he have to need anything? Why did he have to ask for anything?
It’s not your place to ask for anything from her.
“Sure, you can’t go by bus, far too inconvenient. Are you seeing that friend of yours again? God, it’s so far away. Do you even think about how worried I am every time you leave? Everything could happen and I won’t be there.” She looked at him intently, shaking her head as if Minhyuk was disappointing her by trying to live his own life, and all he wanted to do was apologizing.
“I’ll take care. Nothing has ever happened,” he said instead, his voice weak and small, knowing very well how pointless it was to argue with her.
“Yet. You never know what people out there are up to.” She looked through the magazines on the kitchen table until she found the one she was looking for. “You can’t trust anyone, and it doesn’t matter how close you think you are with them. They can screw you over at any time. Just look at this shitshow of your father. I should’ve never married him, but everyone told us to.”
Minhyuk didn’t say anything anymore, only hummed to show that he was listening even though it was the same speech as always and he was unable to decipher her, no matter how hard he tried to understand. Was she happy to have him? Did she regret it? Her words said no, yet, her actions screamed so much louder, that her life could have been so much better if she never got married and never had him in the first place.
“We only have us. That’s why we have to take good care of each other.” With her magazine in one hand and her cup in the other one, she walked over into the living room to pursue her Saturday ritual - doing crossword puzzles while drinking coffee before they would go on their shopping trip.
I don’t know what she is trying to say. Is she holding you responsible for ruining her life? Does she think about how different her life could have been if you’d never been born?
How was someone supposed to know if they were welcome in this world and had a right to be there, take space, have their opinion and feelings on their own? And was it right to say that someone shouldn’t be alive in the first place? Who made the rules about right and wrong? Welcome and unwelcome? Was it even justified to be given so many years living them in misery while others were taken too early even though they seemed happy?
Am I wasting time? Time someone else could have had to be happy?
Minhyuk tried not to think about it anymore, as he felt the scars on his forearm itch just allowing such thoughts to intoxicate his mind, so far away from the present moment. For now, he would eat his breakfast and hope for the best.