There is mentions of abuse/domestic violence, death of a loved one, along with confrontation, yelling, excessive cursing, and mentions of blood/bruises in this chapter. Please be advised and do not read any further if these topics are sensitive to you.

AN: Enjoy the finale, it's a long one. xx

✧━━ .·:*¨¨* 𓆩♡𓆪 *¨¨*:·. ━━ ✧

❥ 𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐡𝐨'𝐬 𝐏𝐎𝐕 •°. *࿐

"Ah, Minho–" Chan's voice calls out, catching Minho's attention with ease. "Can I chat with you for a sec? I need to ask you about something."

For a second, Minho hesitates, worrying about leaving Jisung in such a hectic environment. But, as he turns to glance at Jisung, nearly about to ask him about leaving, Jisung seems to sense his worry, waving him off with a soft smile. Reassured, Minho offers a smile back before he takes his leave, walking behind Chan as he leads him into another room.

This room was larger, more grand, made with a higher ceiling and larger paned windows, all of which had been decorated with long, white curtains yet met with low lighting, making the atmosphere feel more frat-like. People were moving around the space in a careless, sort-of tipsy manner, walking around, laughing, none the wiser to the conversation about the unfold between the two males.

Chan hadn't been someone Minho was relatively close with, but given his history with Wooyoung and how rather nice he typically was, whatever words Chan wanted to share likely weren't all that bad.

"Hey, so listen," Chan begins, leading Minho off towards a nearby wall, trying to stay away from the main chaos of the room filled with other unfamiliar people. Minho watches Chan intently, raising a brow, listening with a slight tick of anxiety unfurling in the back of his mind. "Mingi told me something that I find rather concerning."

Minho could honestly laugh at the true shock of Chan's words. He knew that Mingi and Chan were friends, but he really hadn't expected Mingi to dish out all of his dirty laundry to someone who doesn't even go to their school anymore.

"Oh really? What about?"

"Well, when he said this person's name to me a while ago, I couldn't imagine why he'd target someone like this. . . but, after seeing him here tonight, it all makes sense now."

"What exactly did he say, Chan?" Minho's sudden jest is cut short, no longer amused by Mingi's dull antics, but now rather curious as to what could've been such a topic for conversation.

"He has been going on about this guy for months, and I've had no idea who this person even was. There was this long and drawn out conversation about how he, once upon a time, wanted to date this guy or something, or there were fleeting feelings?"

"So. . . Mingi is jealous?" Minho tries to imply, but Chan shrugs, seemingly unsure.

"I wouldn't have a clue, but based on his words alone, I'd assume so. I don't see him all the time like you do."

"I'm not really friends with him anymore, Chan," Minho says quietly, listening to laughter from the other room filter in from behind him. Chan's focus remains on the conversation though, a sudden shift in his expression as he swallows the new information hesitantly.

"To think, his ride or die is now gone awry," Chan mutters, taking a breath. "That also explains his weird ass behavior. He seemed crazed, a little unstable and a bit all over the place. He keeps going on and on about revenge and this and that– he's seemed obsessive."

"Mingi gets. . . weird with this kind of thing," Minho says, watching as Chan nods in agreement.

"Yeah, I know. But, now even Hyunjin hangs in a different crowd? If Jongho leaves his side, I think Mingi might lose his cool."

"I think he already has, to be fair," Minho admits, earning a scoff from Chan.

"But, still–" Chan pauses, glancing around the room before he speaks. "This person he's angry with, like I was saying, I've had no idea who they even were up until now."

"Are they here? Right now?" Chan nods. "Who is it?"

"I don't know if you want to know Minho, you might lose your cool–"

"Chan," Minho deadpans. "I'm serious. I've had about enough of Mingi's shit and now that we've graduated, there's really nothing that he can do to change anything that's happened. Just tell me– who is it? Felix? Wooyoung? Is he trying to fuck over another of my friend's relationships?"

"No, Minho," Chan sighs through his adamant words, his voice lowering into a solemn whisper. "It's Jisung."

Minho's eyes widened, taking in and absorbing Chan's few words with a rapt breath. For a moment, Minho feels his heart tighten, his chest suddenly heaving as his lungs close, the breath leaving his lips as he completely took in the grandeur of Chan's words. He couldn't comprehend everything that he was hearing, let alone that Mingi had a fucking crush on Jisung for some fucking reason.

"You're fucking kidding me–" Minho begins, but Chan cuts him off, trying to cool off the simmering anger that was nearing a tipping point.

"Listen, before you blow your top, alright? Let me explain something," Chan soothes, reaching a hand over, resting it gently over Minho's left shoulder.

"Go on."

"Mingi was talking to me over the phone two days ago, well before he knew about the guest list for this party," Chan begins, his gaze momentarily avoidant. "I guess he mentioned pulling the same threat against Jisung. The same one he pulled with Hongjoong."

"Chan–" Minho warns, his fist subconsciously tightening. "You better tell me right now that you talked him out of that idea."

"Obviously I told him not to do that," Chan tried to assure, but Minho remained unconvinced. All he knew was that once Mingi was inclined into doing something, it was damn near impossible to convince him otherwise.

"Then why are we having this conversation right now?" Minho pries almost angrily, his once-buried temper breaching the surface, tilting over the edge and about to burst.

"Because once you introduced him to me, all of this came rushing back like a raging river. I didn't orchestrate any of this, Minho. Believe me. Hongjoong is my closest friend now, and Seonghwa is lovely to have around, and part of me is still holding onto the guilt about the whole situation from over a year ago."

"I wasn't even fucking here for that Chan, but I know what Mingi did. I can't stand the things he does to people, so how can you sit here and remain so amicable between both parties? Why the fuck are you still friends with him after you knew all of this?"

"Because you know how he is–!"

"Don't try to reason with me, it's not worth it. Don't stand up for him, and more importantly, don't you dare make excuses for his shit behavior. I don't give a shit if his parents divorced, and I don't care that his mother doesn't pay attention to him. Boo-fucking-hoo! At least he has a fucking family."

Chan is silent as Minho takes in a heavy breath, trying to cool his temper before he truly loses it on another unsuspecting victim. But, given the news, Minho already knew he was tilting on the edge of a meltdown of sorts, he just couldn't imagine what would be the thing to set him off.

"I don't mean to yell at you, Chan, but you really need to understand that telling me that my ex-best friend had a crush on my now-boyfriend, followed by the fact that he wants to haze my fucking boyfriend is really just fucking off-putting."

"He didn't want to go through with it because of you," Chan explains further, though his tone remained hesitant, almost as if he was afraid to cross over another boundary. "To do what he did to Hongjoong meant that he'd have to threaten and hurt you in the process, and I think that he realized he'd be incapable of either."

"Probably because I'd beat the shit out of him," Minho replies, adjusting his hoodie with a slight huff. "Where the fuck is he? I want a word–"

"No, Minho, please– not here."

"Then where? After tonight, I'm making it my mission to avoid him at all costs, but I want to see him now before he tries to do something stupid to Jisung."

"He won't, Minho, please–!" Chan tries to intervene, reaching to grab Minho by his wrist, but the male retracts his arm quickly, taking a step backwards before looking out into the crowd. He knew Mingi was here, somewhere within the sea of faces, it was just a matter of where.

"Where is he?" Minho asks, leaving no room for argument as his tone deepens slightly.

"I'm seriously imploring you not to do this–"

"And I don't give a fuck," Minho says sharply, turning his gaze to face Chan with a look that withheld a mixture of stubborn intent. "Where is he?"

Just as Chan's lips parted to speak, a sudden burst of familiar laughter drew Minho away from his interlocked gaze, snagging his attention back into the direction of the noise. It was like spotting a lighthouse after being lost at sea, eyeing the brightening beam from miles away, entrapped in a haze where his only focus was that of where the spotlight had been settled.

Sure enough, there he was, settled in the midst of a crowd with Jongho nearby. Mingi looked none the wiser, amusingly laughing and enjoying the moment, caught up in whatever conversation he had been entertaining. Minho absently clutches his hands into fists, his jaw tightening as he watches Mingi laugh, completely unaware of the storm that was brewing just a small distance away from him.

Without missing another beat, Minho moves through the crowd, leaving Chan behind in the house, scattered amongst the lights and solo cups, lost in the sea of things that felt insignificant. All Minho wanted was to confront this, to face all of the nonsense head on, to finally put an end to Mingi's reign of terror. Mingi was enabling his own bad behavior, encouraging horrid acts and terrible jests that evoked negative emotions onto others; all of which only invigorated Minho even further in his decision to put an end to all of this.

As his footsteps drew nearer, the sounds of Mingi's conversation bellowed in the depths of Minho's ears, rattling around like a bird stuck in a cage.

"–and you should've heard the way he reacted to that; absolutely priceless!" Mingi explains, his voice trailing off as a laugh becomes of his tone.

"Mingi–" Minho starts, cutting through the laughter with a decisive tone, stepping close enough to draw everyone's attention into near-silence. "We need to talk, without. . . everyone else."

"Oh, the remnants of my best friend returns," Mingi suggests, raising a brow as he lifts his solo cup higher, almost in faux-toast. "What can I do for my esteemed guest?"

"Stop with the dramatics," Minho sternly retorts, turning his gaze towards Jongho and the other members of whatever group Mingi had formed. "Jongho, I really need you to piss off for a minute; please do not get in my way and just listen, for once."

"Hey, c'mon now, Minho'ah, he's our friend too, isn't he?" Mingi chides, pouting dramatically.

"Friend?" Minho exclaims, his tone raising slightly. "You think the both of you qualify yourselves as friends?"

"Oh, here we go–"

"Shut the fuck up, Mingi," Minho warns, stepping closer, pressing his finger against the male's chest. "I meant what I said. Get your fucking friends to leave. We need to chat."

For a moment, Mingi's eyes narrow before they open again, his jaw tightening as he takes in Minho's words for what they were. Minho could tell that he was aggravated, maybe a bit taken aback by the intensity of Minho's demands, but either way, he looked as if he was actually going to listen. . . for once.

"Jongho–" Mingi begins, his eyes boring into Minho. "Go get me a drink."

Without a word, Jongho simply nods and heads off, the remnants of whatever girls following him silently. Minho watches with a glare that couldn't be avoided, his irritation running high while his patience dimmed thin. He didn't want to even entertain this conversation, let alone breathe the same air as Mingi, yet here he was, about to demand answers for the sake of his own boyfriend.

"Alright, you have your moment of peace with me," Mingi begins, trying to act jestful, though there was a lingering bout of anger settled within his tone. "What did you want?"

"What did I want? More like what did you want with Jisung? What's all this I hear about wanting to haze him just because we're together?"

Mingi's face runs pale, and for a brief second, a lapse in time, does Minho think that Mingi was about to tell the damn honest truth. But, as quick as the look comes, it flees, bringing Mingi's usual asshole-like demeanor back, a smirk pulling at his lips as he nods, accepting the words with whatever bullshit he was about to spew.

"I did, years ago," Mingi explains, rolling his eyes. "Something about those doe-eyes, you know? I'm sure you know, anyway."

"Cut the shit," Minho warns again, watching as Mingi stands dismissively, clearly uninterested and completely unbothered.

"What do you really want to know, Minho'ah? You've stopped hanging out with me, and I'm sure you want nothing to do with me now simply because you're too damn interested in getting your dick wet–"

"You better shut the fuck up–" Minho says through gritted teeth, watching as Mingi leans back slightly, his brows raised in subtle shock. "You keep Jisung's name out of your fucking mouth, or so help me, Mingi; I won't be able to turn an eye to the shit you usually do."

"What I usually do?" Mingi nearly scoffs, disbelief coloring his tone. "You act as if you know me so well."

"I know you well enough to realize that you threatened Hongjoong and Hyunjin because you were a jealous little prick, scaring them into leaving their partners so you wouldn't have to sit by and watch as your friends fell in love while you sat alone."

Mingi's posture straightens as he leans forward, a scowl now curled on his lips as Minho finishes his statement, causing the rift between the males to further cave inwards, dissolving this friendship into that of dust.

"You don't know what you're talking about–"

"Oh, don't I?" Minho says, his voice dropping into a whisper. "Because last time I checked, you're the one with abandonment issues, and you can't stand it when people leave, so you rather scare them into staying like a bitch."

Mingi is silent, and all Minho can do is smile, knowing that his words were actively reaching Mingi's inner cortex, fully sinking into the realization that he wouldn't leave this conversation unscathed.

"Touched a nerve, did I?" Minho whispers again, the sound of the music nearly overpowering his voice. "Well, you don't fucking scare me Mingi, and I will never leave Jisung just because you can't contain your own bout of jealousy. I will not fold like Hongjoong and Hyunjin did, and I would really love to see you try me on that."

"You're just like them, you know?" Mingi says back, keeping his tone cool and composed, though Minho could sense the undercurrent of anguish and betrayal within his words. "Solely focused on one person to the point where you're too blind to see the truth of everything around you. What was it that you said to me all those nights ago?"

Minho is quiet, listening, trying to pick apart Mingi's threats for what they were; just measly words. But, this statement felt. . . different. Different in a way that was deeply unsettling.

"Don't you remember, Minho?" Mingi asks, smiling slightly. "It was just you and I, alone at the cusp of midnight, two bottles deep, left with nothing to do–"

"Don't you dare bring that up–"

"Oh, now I touched a nerve, didn't I?" Mingi laughs quietly, shaking his head as he slowly leans away, folding his arms against his chest. "You wouldn't want me to tell Jisung, would you?"

Minho could tell that Mingi was getting a rise out of all of this, especially over a circumstance he had tried to forget about thanks to the indulgence of a few bottles of soju. Minho didn't really want to tell Jisung any of this, to be honest, as it was an accident, a drunken one at that.

It was a lonely night, one spent crying at Mingi's house after his father had swore at him with abusive, hateful words, met with the back of his hand smacked across the left side of his face. Minho had run away with a bruise to accompany his shattered state of mind, crawling into the embrace that Mingi had welcomed him with, coupled with a few drinks that promised to drown the memory of everything that had happened.

One drink led to another, and before Minho had realized what was happening, he was threading a hand through Mingi's hair, kissing him and swallowing his breaths, allowing the peace of intimacy to wash away the wounds that marred his soul.

Once he had woke, Mingi was still dead asleep, likely snoozing off the hungover that would become of him once he greeted the world again, leaving Minho alone, staring at the ceiling, wondering why the fuck he had slept with Song Mingi. He vowed to forget the night even happened, but as time leant on, Mingi grew clingier, more possessive, trying to sink his teeth into Minho's very being to claim him, always stepping in and defending him with every possible instance before them. Minho, over time, did forget about the entire night, having now busied his thoughts with just how much he cherished Jisung. But here he was, staring into the eyes of a ravenous lion, searching for an ounce of weakness before striking his prey. Mingi had been holding on to this secret, waiting for the prime opportunity to spew their intimacy to the entire world of those who would dare to listen. It was all a trick, a plan to manipulate and control Minho's every will and whim.

Then, it dawned on him. Mingi never had a crush on Jisung. It was all a ploy.

Mingi could see the sparks flying between the electric current brewing the moment Minho had begun his tutoring sessions with Jisung all those months ago. Even moreso, Mingi had already been resentful of Minho spending more time with Jisung to begin with, but that didn't make sense as to why Mingi had apparently focused his bully-like efforts into making Jisung's life slightly miserable. This revelation only brought more questions, which made this situation that much more vile.

Mingi never wanted to share Minho, just as he never wanted to share Hongjoong and Hyunjin. He wanted to scare Minho into submission, to blackmail him and to keep him right where he wanted. After all, Minho was vulnerable all those months ago. Bruised, crying and alone; left as a victim that Mingi couldn't help but try and save.

"What happened between you and I was a mistake," Minho forces out, watching as Mingi's smile only widens.

"Was it?" Mingi's head tilts to the left playfully, searching Minho's gaze for something; possibly a further answer to his question. "That's not how I remember it."

"I'm not playing these games with you, Mingi–"

"Oh, but you will." Mingi steps closer again, dropping his voice to a whisper as he tries to tower over Minho, seizing the ability to finally try and make Minho feel smaller than he was. "Get rid of him and come back to me, Minho'ah. Or. . . maybe I should just tell Jisung? Maybe I can make up a little lie and tell him that it happened the other night that you lied about going home?"

"I went to Felix's house, Mingi, don't you dare try to make me seem like a liar."

"Did you?" Mingi drawls, unfolding his arms, his eyes lulling. "What did that text read again? I need a drink to forget about my dad?"

"Don't–" Minho's voice is hesitant, and for the first time since he began this conversation, he feels his confidence slimming down to an impossible break.

"I meant what I said," Mingi says angrily, keeping his words in the tone of a threat. "Get rid of him. Or he will get a taste of what Seonghwa did."

"You're not going to hurt him," Minho retorts quickly, but Mingi was unphased.

He simply smiles, turning his body slightly, about to walk away. "Watch me."

A sudden bout of unrivaled anger surges through Minho at just the pure thought of Mingi putting his hands on Jisung in any form. Jisung didn't deserve to be treated like that, let alone to hear and feel the things that Minho had heard on a daily basis. Jisung deserved happiness, to be free of the things that worried him, to be smothered in so much affection that he was nearly drowning in it. Mingi threatened to stomp out Jisung's light, one of which was Minho's solace in dark nights, guiding him to a place of relief and love, making his heart burn in a way he hadn't felt before. Mingi wouldn't harm his safe space; not now, or ever.

"Don't you dare turn away from me like that–!" Minho yells out, reaching to grab Mingi by the collar of his shirt. Forcibly, Minho pulls him closer, their faces barely inches apart as he stares at him. Mingi muttered something under his breath, something unintelligent, probably, but Minho didn't care. Mingi was testing his patience more than he ever had, and he's had just about enough.

With a swift flick of his arm backwards, he sends his fist rushing forward, colliding into the skin and bone of Mingi's jaw.

The crowd, once bustling with life and energy, suddenly falls silent. Minho can feel every single pair of eyes dawning on him, staring at the scene centered around the sudden punch that had been thrown seconds ago. Mingi stumbled backwards a step or two, his hand rushing up to meet his jaw as he tried to gather a sense of what had just happened. Minho let go of his shirt, his brows furrowed, eyes laced with anger, a fury of hate settled within his chest.

"Did you just–?" Mingi asks, narrowing his gaze as he stares at Minho, still partially dumbfounded.

"Don't you dare–"

"Minho?"

His heart drops. The voice, tender and hesitant, slightly shaky yet so composed; Minho knew who it was without even having to turn and face them.

"Not now, Jisung," Minho warns, remaining firm, doing his best to not look at Jisung throughout this encounter. He knew that the moment he turned to look at Jisung, his entire resolve would crumble, and he wasn't exactly keen on backing down from this confrontation any time soon.

"Listen to your little boyfriend, Minho," Mingi says with a subtle drawl, almost in a mocking manner. "Walk away."

"Don't listen to him," Jisung tries to reach, his steps tentative as they close in on where Minho had been standing, the hesitant reach of a hand warming the skin on Minho's now-bruising hand. "Come with me; let's leave."

Minho wasn't done. He wanted to throw another punch, to finally give Mingi everything he deserved. He wanted to prove something to him; to prove that he wasn't weak, that he wasn't just a person to be walked all over, that he wasn't something that Mingi owned. He wanted to be right, just this once, to feel victorious over something in his life when everything else had felt like a mere loss.

But, the sudden caress of Jisung's hand against his shattered all of his mangled thoughts. He did win in life. He had someone to look out for, someone to care for, someone to lean on and someone to cry to. Jisung was everything, and Mingi was slowly beginning to mean nothing. Minho had walked away and bit his tongue with everything that Mingi had done, but this circumstance felt too difficult to simply turn the other cheek for. Mingi was clearly enthused about pushing Minho's buttons, his intentions laced with something darker, almost as if he had been yearning for something just as devious as this.

So, with a breath, Minho grips Jisung's hand back, slowly beginning to turn around and allow himself the chance to walk away. He realized in those few seconds of internal thought that he wanted to be better than this. He wanted to be better than Mingi, to be bigger than this confrontation, to move on and move past this, and most of all, to be free of the anger that had started to consume him.

"Yeah, you turn around, Minho," Mingi jests, his voice carrying through the home, bouncing off of the high walls and white-painted ceiling. "Run away like the coward you've always been. That's why your daddy hits you, huh? Because you ran away from your mother?"

Minho freezes, turned halfway around, gripping onto Jisung's hand tightly, feeling as his jaw began to clench. Mingi was playing a dangerous game, and if there was one thing Minho had expressed to Mingi all those months ago, was that his mother was a line to never, ever cross over.

Before Minho can get words to tumble from his lips, Mingi speaks again, and this time, he speaks without a second of hesitation.

"If you would've just listened to your mother, she wouldn't have gotten hit by that car all those years ago!"

Minho turns quickly, his hand releasing Jisung's as he steps closer to Mingi on impulse, grabbing the collar of his shirt and punching him again, and again, and again. All he could see was red, and beyond all of the cries of people telling him to stop, he could faintly hear Jisung's pleading voice calling after him, seeking to bring him away from the act of violence that was claiming his soul.

After one more hit, Minho pushes Mingi away, sending him scurrying backwards into the nearby sofa. His nose was leaking with crimson blood, his hands up and reaching to try and stop the flow before it dripped down his skin to meet his clothes. Minho shook his bloodied fist, feeling the sting of his impacts swell almost immediately. His ears were ringing, his eyes studying everything that was falling apart before him, unable to realize that Jisung was grabbing his other hand and pulling with everything he had.

"Minho, please–!" Jisung begs, tugging and pulling harder and harder. Minho stood still, his eyes slowly blinking back to life as the surroundings began to fall inwards, bringing him back into a state of momentary stress.

He finally gives in, taking a step backwards, following Jisung's pull as the crowd around them begins to watch Mingi scream and yell obscenities from the couch, holding his nose with a bloodied hand.

"Minho, follow me–" Jisung pleads, tugging him urgently. "Please, Min. Please!"

He follows compliantly, moving through the haze of bodies and voices with a murmur of regret sinking into his core. He felt his hands tremble, his brain scattered amongst the array of solo cups and dirtied paper plates laying around the home, lost in the feeling of pain that surged from his knuckles and into his arm.

Once outside, Jisung quickly closed the door behind them, moving off of the porch to press his hand into Minho's lower back, slowly beginning to guide their steps down the pavement, turning to the left once they reached the road.

Minho didn't feel capable of speaking, words amiss in the flurry of emotions that raged through his cortex. He wasn't sure how to fix the things he had broken, let alone how to react to the truth of his mother's death being brought up so abruptly. His old wounds, ones that had been long since healed and scarred over, had now been reopened, left to leave him bleeding out right then on the pavement, clinging onto Jisung's hand for a sense of hope.

The streets were quiet, save for the sounds of ambient crickets and a subtle breeze dancing through the nearby trees, shuffling through leaves and branches in a thicket of momentary pause. Minho could feel his heart thumping against his chest as he counted every single beat, noting his every breath, feeling beads of sweat drip down his cheek. He was crashing; the adrenaline was now subsiding, leaving him with the sensation of exhaustion laced with utter guilt.

As they rounded the corner, Minho stopped moving. His steps came to an abrupt halt, causing Jisung to turn and face him with a look of pure concern.

"Are you mad at me?" Minho asks, searching Jisung's gaze with a glimmer of tears, hoping, praying; wanting an outcome that wouldn't destroy everything he held dear.

"Minho," Jisung says quietly, his voice a whisper. "No. . . no, I'm not."

"Jisung–" Minho's composure crumbles, his lip quivering as the tears surged forth, breaking down on the sidewalk, feeling as Jisung's hand tightly grips his own.

"Hey, hey, hey," Jisung coos, looming closer. "It's alright, Min. I promise. I'm not mad; I could never be."

"He just. . . he triggered the shit out of me, Ji, and I didn't know what to do–"

"That's alright, it's okay," Jisung tries to soothe. His hand moves upwards, his steps moving to lead them only being half an arms' length away, his palm caressing the side of Minho's tear-riddled cheek. "Let's go talk somewhere quiet, Min. I think there's a lot to talk about, yeah?"

"I need to tell you everything," Minho admits through an unsteady breath, watching as Jisung nods.

"Okay. Let's head to the park. We don't have to go home yet."

Their steps slowly began moving again, their hands entwined as silence became of them again. Jisung looked concerned, maybe a bit nervous or hesitant, and even moreso, he was lost in thought. Jisung's brows were slightly furrowed, his steps slightly faster than usual, but Minho kept quiet anyway. He didn't want to make this worse, so he sealed his lips, focusing on his own breaths, trying to make sense of the rattled mess that his mind came to.

The evening air was cold, dancing along the back of Minho's neck, threatening to travel down his spine as he walked, his gaze cast down to look at his shoes, watching his every step. He was terrified of losing anything more; terrified of losing quite literally one of the best things that had happened to him.

As the park came into view, Jisung's grip absently tightened in a soft squeeze, bringing Minho's attention back upwards. The park was vacant, save for the brightening lamp posts and softly swaying trees, left to be meandered about for two souls that felt absently scattered.

Jisung led them to a nearby bench, facing away from the scenery of the park, moreso focused on that of the road, listening and watching as traffic moved without a care in the world. Minho settled down on the wooden bench, clasping his hands together, only then taking a moment to look down and see that his knuckles were covered in dried blood, bruised and discolored, swollen from the repetitive impact.

"What happened?" Jisung began, his voice soft and tentative, likely scared to pry into an unknown boundary.

"I–" Minho pauses, chewing on his lip. "I think it's time I tell you about the Hongjoong thing."

Jisung is quiet, attentive nonetheless, nodding slightly as he waits patiently.

"A long time ago, before Hongjoong and Seonghwa graduated, Hongjoong and Mingi had been best friends. It was a friendship that was bound on mutual respect, and from what I've heard, Hongjoong trusted Mingi with his life, practically. They were extremely close. . . until Seonghwa came into the picture."

Minho looks out into the road, soothing his trembling hands by keeping them clasped, allowing the words to flow without bothering to stop.

"Mingi was jealous. Almost instantly, really. Seonghwa captivated Hongjoong from the instant they had met, and for a while, it seemed like Hongjoong would never ask him out. That's what Hyunjin had said, anyway. But, things changed pretty rapidly. I don't know the circumstances well, but from what Mingi has explained to me, Hongjoong started growing distant. He was spending more time with Seonghwa, abandoning their group sessions after school, sitting elsewhere during lunch, completely disappearing in the crowd of students. He left Mingi behind and didn't dare to look back." Minho pauses, glancing down. "Hyunjin told me that Mingi began threatening Hongjoong after that. It started with text messages, saying stupid shit that was seen as a joke at first, but. . . his words slowly began to hold more weight in their truth. There was an incident once, and for whatever had happened, it scared the shit out of Seonghwa. Mingi was behind it, of course, and. . . after that, Seonghwa and Hongjoong's relationship just wasn't the same."

"So. . . that's what I keep hearing about?" Jisung asks softly, trying to seek out Minho's gaze, yet Minho remained slightly avoidant.

"Part of it. Mingi caused a rift between Hongjoong and Seonghwa purposely, which resulted in Hongjoong clinging to Mingi again until he graduated. After that, I'm sure that Hongjoong reached out to Seonghwa and they had made amends, but. . . it happened again. Hyunjin and Felix–" Minho pauses, turning to look at Jisung as his words slowly left his lips. "He threatened Felix, and Hyunjin panicked."

Jisung's eyes widened at the full truth bleeding out in front of him, revealing the true reasoning behind Felix's broken heart.

"Hyunjin. . . he never wanted Felix to be hurt. Felix was his world, his life, his everything; Mingi threatened to take all of that away. Hyunjin reacted in the only way he knew how, and he separated himself from Felix before Mingi even had the chance to plant his roots."

"Okay," Jisung breathes out, blinking twice before turning away, facing the road. "So, what does this have to do with everything that happened tonight?"

"Chan pulled me aside to tell me that Mingi wanted to threaten you." Minho hesitates, feeling emotions swirl and settle on the back of his tongue. "The minute Mingi told me the truth, I just– I panicked. I felt the exact thing Hyunjin surely did, and I. . . I would rather die than see you hurt, Jisung. I know what Mingi is capable of, and I know you might think he's all bark and no bite, but once he says something. . . he means it."

Jisung reaches over, placing his hand into Minho's. Silence becomes of them, only momentarily, broken up by the passing sound of a car's engine.

"I was just scared," Minho admits, swallowing tentatively. "He was telling me that he'd hurt you if I didn't 'get rid' of you. He's controlling me, or trying to, at least. He's manipulating everything so I will come crawling back to him, pulling the same shit he did with Hongjoong and Hyunjin. He's upset that I moved on, just as they had, and the only thing he could think to do is threaten to harm you."

"Harm me?" Jisung asks, clearly taken aback. "Harm me how?"

"I have no idea, Ji; I don't really even want to think about it. Now, with all of this college talk and. . . y'know, everything else–" Minho sighs. "It scares me in a way that I can't express in words. I just want to be with you, and knowing that I'll be in the states and you'll be left here with Mingi, without me–"

Minho's voice cracks, a trail of silent tears streaming down his face. "I'm terrified to lose someone who means everything to me."

"Baby," Jisung murmurs, turning in his spot to face Minho more directly. His hands move upwards, cradling Minho's face, trying to gently coax his partner into turning to face him so their gazes would connect.

"I know you– I know you might've heard what Mingi said about my mom," Minho's voice trails off, following Jisung's gentle guidance as he looks at him, his eyes still glimmering with tears that showed not only the depth of his fear, but the depth of his care. "And he was right. It was my fault that she died. My dad has been right all this time. It was my fault, and it's always been my fault, and I don't want to be the reason that you get hurt, Jisung. I can't take it–"

"Hey, hey, slow down," Jisung soothes calmly, brushing his thumbs against Minho's cheeks. "That's not going to happen, Min. I promise you."

"Promises aren't a truth," Minho responds shakily. "They can be broken, time and time again."

"Then how about this, hm?" Jisung says, a tear rolling down his cheek, though his voice was as steady as he could make it. "I'm coming with you. No matter where you go off to college, I'll be right there. I'll follow you through it all, Min."

Minho's eyes widened, his heart stuttering against his chest as he absorbed Jisung's confession. Though, he wasn't sure if he could ever prepare himself for what words were about to occupy the small space still left between them.

"I don't care what it costs me, and I don't care where we go. Your father, my parents, Mingi and Jongho; no one, and I mean no one, will ever keep me from you, Lee Minho. And do you know why?" Jisung asks, tilting his head slightly, trying to smile through the small bout of tears that rolled down his cheeks. Minho says nothing, he simply waits; patient and devoted, searching Jisung's gaze for a hint of anything.

"I love you, Minho," Jisung whispers, his eyes shining with tears. "I love you, as you are, and I will follow you to the ends of the earth."

To be continued. . .

✧━━ .·:*¨¨* 𓆩♡𓆪 *¨¨*:·. ━━ ✧

Thank you all for reading As I Am to completion. This book means a lot to me, and honestly, it means a lot more to me than I thought to be possible. A sequel is in the works, and I will of course announce when part two is coming. Thank you, with every ounce of my heart. I'll see you soon. xx