JULY 9

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   The silence in the house that evening was not only unusual, it was unbearable. Tense. Disconcerting. It bled over into the next morning. Minho never knew he could miss the noise so much.

   Not a single one of those eight boys was relaxed or cheerful as they packed up their stuff that morning. Quietly, they headed out of the beach house, having left it as empty and almost as spotless as it was when they came, and filed out, one by one, down the stairs to the gravel driveway. 

   It was clear as day that half of them were avoiding each other. Changbin and Jisung stood at the front, and Hyunjin and Minho hung towards the back. Felix stood in the middle, sticking close to Chan, eyes to his feet while they kicked around pebbles.

   Yeah, not how anyone wanted the end of their vacation to go.

   Tensions were high and no one looked particularly happy, so no one noticed if Jisung looked somewhat ready to burst into tears. No one other than Minho, that is. And what was Minho going to do about it?

   Minho got into the passenger seat of Seungmin's car, just to make it easy for Jisung to avoid him again— barely having spared a glance toward Jisung as he headed towards Changbin's car like he had on Friday.

   ...Well, maybe that was a lie. Maybe he was constantly glancing over there, which is why he noticed Chan following after Jisung, speaking to him as he stood beside the opened car door (which he kept open with one hand resting on it). He watched Chan's gestures grow increasingly large and powerful as they conversed— which is why he noticed that Chan was growing exasperated even before they all heard him raise his voice.

   "Were you even listening to me?!" Those were the first clear words that Minho caught, due to their volume.

   Even from his angle, Minho caught a glimpse of Jisung's defensive posture behind the car door; the hands he'd raised to shield himself... from Chan.

   "Woah, Ji, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to yell..." With his movements suddenly turning careful and gentle, as if all the frustration had instantly left his body, Chan softly placed a hand on Jisung's elbow. "Are you okay?"

   That attracted Felix's eyes, and he was now cautiously, concernedly observing the two of them as he took a few steps in their direction, wondering if this conversation was one that shouldn't be intruded on or not.

   "No!" Jisung shouted, loud, his voice piercing the unnaturally stiff morning air. 

   It was at this moment that Minho realized he was about to witness a breakdown.

   His body had somehow ended up entirely turned toward the pair of them; he'd gone from taking tiny glances to full-on staring. But he hurried to face forward again, focusing his eyes on his hands in his lap. Panic struck through his chest. Even without looking, he could feel the incident coming on— the pull of tension in the air— like a storm brewing, as Jisung inhaled so sharply he could hear it easily from where he sat. Trouble coming.

   When someone begins to have a breakdown in public, there's a rush of quiet that sweeps over the area as mouths shut and eyes go big, drawn to the action. Then, all who are within earshot are lumped into one of three categories: the ones who watch it happen with empathetic, caring, knit-brow eyes (and perhaps hands over mouths) and periodically glance around the surrounding area as if looking for something or someone to come in and take care of the problem, the ones who rush to jump in and comfort the one in distress, and finally, the ones who sink into their seats and pretend not to look as if there isn't a scene being caused right in front of them.

   Guess which one Minho was.

   Still, though he refused to move his head toward them again, he couldn't help continuing to sneak guilty glances through the mirror. 

   "There's too much going on, okay? My mom is r-really sick and I— I don't— I don't know what to do about anything— or— a-about M-min— Minho—" Jisung was growing increasingly distressed with each word and each phrase turned more into a sob, with hiccups strewn in-between.

   By then, Felix had rushed forward to wrap Jisung in his arms while Chan ran a comforting hand over his shoulders. At that time, Minho stopped looking in the mirror. Instead he stared, unblinking, at his hands, willing this to be a nightmare. Unable to ignore his own name mentioned in Jisung's fit of half-articulate sobs. 

   Had he caused this? 

   Shouldn't he be there in Felix's place right now? Shouldn't he just be doing something, anything to comfort Jisung? Yet here he was, mouth firmly shut, head snapped down, eyes glued to his hands which were in tight fists over his lap. He couldn't do a thing even if he wanted to.

   Selfish, Minho, so selfish. All but throwing a fit when Jisung tried to lighten his load a little by asking Minho to try therapy instead of forcing him to fix his issues because it was more comfortable and convenient. Giving him the silent treatment for it.

   "Jisung, why didn't you tell me about your mom?" Chan questioned, as if it were his job to fix it, or to provide comfort. Perhaps he meant to say 'us'.

   Between more hiccups and gasps for air, Jisung shot back, pulling away from Felix (perhaps to save the blond's eardrums), "W-why would I put that on you when you have a— a hundred other t-things to worry about? You can't fix it, anyway!"

   Jisung was still crying hard in Felix's arms when Seungmin's car left, urged to do so by Chan. Until then, Seungmin had just been sitting on the side of his car that was blocked from the drama, with the door open, waiting to go.

   Chan had walked around to the side of the car where the three of them, Seungmin, Jeongin, and Minho sat waiting. Minho shrunk down a little further in his seat, almost as if he were hoping that Chan wouldn't see him— as if that happening would make it mean he was really, actually there. Being totally useless.  "You guys might just wanna start heading back. We'll take care of Jisung and get going whenever he's calmed down. Not like you guys can do much anyway."

   "Okay," Seungmin had accepted, readily. "Well... guess we'll see you in a couple hours, hyung."

   "Mhm. Bye."

   For a moment, Minho was worried Chan would come to check on him (like he'd done yesterday morning). But thank goodness, no, he didn't. 

   Out of his peripheral, Minho saw Seungmin say a hushed word or two to Jeongin and pat his shoulder before walking around to the driver's side and getting in. When he shut the door, the sounds of Jisung's crying were almost entirely blocked out and it went quiet, with only two sounds following: the click of his seatbelt and the sigh he let out before he glanced at Minho, tense in the passenger seat. Then (turning around in his seat) at Hyunjin, looking melancholy as he watched Jisung and Felix. Then at Jeongin, who was looking at him, with big, scared eyes. "Alright. I don't care what just happened, or what happened last night, we are not going to have a boring ass three hour ride back to the city. I love Jisung very much and I'm very sad that he's having a hard time, but this car is not gonna have a three hour moment of silence on his behalf, and if you don't like that, go with Changbin." 

   He waited a moment to let his words sink in, and when there was absolutely no movement, no unbuckling of seatbelts, he handed the aux cord back to Hyunjin and pulled out of the driveway, rolling down his window for a moment to wave to the four still sitting around the driveway.

   As they left the beach behind, and all traces of sand and sea disappeared, Minho felt an emptiness creep over him— his brand-new set of heartstrings having been twisted and carved out; his chest hollowed.

i was right. it's bullshit.

i always thought that having a real family— one that i cherished and enjoyed belonging to— was impossible. at least for me.

...clearly i was right.

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