Minho was lying on the ballroom floor, still out of breath for the last choreography. He had finally a break and was thinking about getting up to grab the lunch he had in his backpack. He was starving.

But he decided instead to take out his phone and enter the chat he had with Jisung. 

He was wondering what the little squirrel boy was doing. After all, he didn't know anything about him. He didn't know if he lived alone, if he had siblings, if he had any hobbies...

That boy intrigued him a lot, he and his intense gaze. Minho was sure that once there had been sparks in those eyes, because no one is born with that pain engraved in the irises. And, without knowing why, he wanted to find out what had taken those sparks away. He wanted to have the pleasure of seeing them again, he wanted to see Jisung's smile.

He looked at the chat again, Han's last access was not visible of course.

Would it be a good idea to write to him?

Minho really wanted to hear him, but he was afraid of ruining that little openness that Jisung had seemed to have towards him. He didn't want to push him.

How do they say? If you overtighten, the butterfly dies; if you don't close your hand enough, it fly away. Or something like that.

Minho huffed and decided to look for the boy on Instagram. There were several Han Jisungs, but none seemed to be him.

Was he really that asocial? Did he have any friends?

He sighed again and made up his mind: a message shouldn't have frightened him, should it?

After two other minutes of indecision, he managed to put together a sentence:

02-xxx-xxx8

"Hey, yellow apron boy, are you working at the Café?"

"What a stupid phrase, Minho."  he said to himself, still staring at the chat.

His eyes lit up when he saw Han online.

"Please, answer, please, please, please"

.          .          .

Han opened Minho's message and stared at it for a few moments. What was he supposed to do?

At that moment talking to someone would have distracted him from the painful images in his mind. Whether he thought of the punches he received or about Seojun's caresses, it all hurt.

But he wasn't selfish enough to think he wanted to drag Minho or anyone else into the painful maelstrom that his life was. And he wasn't even confident enough to give Minho a chance to hurt him.

He was no longer able to have friends, to trust anyone.

He had continued that strange relationship with Seojun as friends with benefits until he had caught the boy with his tongue in the throat of one of their new companions.

They certainly weren't a couple, he wasn't his boyfriend, so he had no right to be angry, but he felt betrayed.

"Am I not enough for him?" he thought.

Initially he had pretended not to notice, maybe Seojun had just made a mistake. They were friends and they loved each other, right? Seojun had never wanted to hurt him.

But one day his best friend had come to him, saying they should talk. He didn't want to commit and he wanted to be a free spirit.

Seojun had probably got Han feelings, his jealousy and he had felt narrow by it. But Han convinced himself that the boy was just tired of babysitting him. In his opinion, Seojun had gotten tired of him, of his being always gloomy, plaintive, anchored to his past.

Han had continued for months, after breaking up with Eun, to have nightmares, to cry, to be frightened if someone approached him too quickly. He would have needed help, but his parents didn't know anything and Han wasn't going to make them suffer because of his wrong choice.

If Seojun was tired, he was right.

They quarreled and quickly Seojun, the most important person in his life, decided to leave him. 

Han was heartbroken and his parents, worried, had tried in every way to understand what had happened. So Han had finally told them about his relationship with his best friend. He thought that it was okay to tell them at least about that part, also if he hadn't come out yet.

His family didn't take it very well, especially his father.

They argued, they argued hard.

«You're a disappointment, Han.» his father screamed, startling the young boy.

He hadn't finished High School yet and, as a gift, his whole life seemed to have been swept up in a hurricane. As soon as he turned 18 he was able to get rid of Eun, without involving his parents. Seojun had abandoned him two weeks earlier, but it wasn't enough.

The look full of disgust from his father had hit him hard.

«Look at you!» the man screamed again, «You're scared as a rabbit! Are you a man or a girl, for God sake?»

His father had always been a good man. He understood Han on everything, he had taught him to play guitar and to sing. But, in that moment, he seemed a stranger.

And he was so scary.

Han had started shaking, tears flooding his face.

«Calm down, please» Han's mom tried to release the tension, but the damage was done. Han had even been betrayed by his own father. This was really too much.

«You do not know anything about me!» he exclaimed, clenching his fists. He was tired of being beaten by anyone, he had enough of not being appreciated.

«Han Jisung!» his mother was shocked.

Han'd never raised his voice, he'd always been the perfect son. Perhaps she realized in that moment that she really didn't know him well enough. She thought painfully that she didn't know either her son or her husband.

«Don't try to call yourself my father» he hissed, looking into the man's eyes.

In this awful world, at least your father should love you for who you are. Right?

«I hate you.» Han ruled, his eyes filled with hatred. He grabbed a jacket and disappeared.

He came home late that night, locked himself in his room and didn't come out for a week. His parents argued most of the time and Han put on his big headphones all day so he wouldn't hear them. 

Until one day he heard his mother break into a desperate cry during a phone call. There was something different from the usual discussions with her husband. 

Han had come out of his room, frightened, running to her.

«Mom? Mom, what happened?!» his mother was slumped on the ground, sobbing. Her phone had fallen out of her hands.

«Mom? Please, speak to me!» Han screamed, feeling tears fill his eyes just seeing his mother under those conditions.

She was too shocked to speak and she just kept shaking.

Han heard a voice on the other end of the phone, the call was still open. He grabbed it and brought it to his ear:

«Hello? What happened?» he cried.

«You must be Mr. Han's son, right?»

Han felt the blood freeze in his veins. Whatever they were about to tell him, it wasn't something good and he didn't want to hear it. He couldn't bear any more pain.

He resisted the urge to hang up the call and nodded, adding a faint «Yes».

«I'm so sorry» the voice spoke again, barely faltering, «Your father had a car accident»

Han's hand began to shake. "It can not be true. It's not really happening"

«How is he? Which hospital is he in?» he managed to say.

«I'm so sorry, Mr. Han, but there was nothing we could do.»

Han had been left alone, with his feelings of guilt, with the feeling of being wrong, of not deserving love for who he was.

Without any faith in life and in people. Without dream.

And with those memories, Han fell asleep again, leaving Minho without an answer.

Elle's note:

Here I am, hoping I didn't make you cry ahaha  This Han had a really hard life! 

But... do we want to know a little more about Minho as well?

Waiting for your comments and stars, what would you do if you were Minho? How would you approach Han? 

Next: 10 stars and comments or on Tuesday.

L