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✧━━ .·:*¨¨* 𓆩♡𓆪 *¨¨*:·. ━━ ✧

❥ 𝐉𝐢𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐠'𝐬 𝐏𝐎𝐕 •°. *࿐

Summer was drawing near with every passing minute, awakened by the rising sun and brightening flora, bringing forth a warm breeze and clear skies, marking a path for those who sought to enjoy the embrace of warmer weather.

With the incoming throes of summer, classes were too coming to an end, leaving behind the colorful, rainy season of spring and all of the memories that came with it. A new relationship, fleeting glances and arguments with parental guardians, along with the final arrays of tests and quizzes, vacating the duties of those who would soon graduate.

Jisung was excited to be done with high school, to embark on a new journey free of the confines of a suffocating apartment, one of which had remained more and more silent the longer that time wrought. His mother was still not talking to him, which Jisung wasn't really keen on talking to her either, leaving his father as a mediator, trying to encourage conversation over dinner most Friday nights, but Jisung always ate and excused himself as quickly as possible.

Homework was a forgotten task as each teacher eventually stopped giving it, making room for more time spent studying for their final course exams, with some leisure time to spare. Jisung had busied himself with studying. . . sometimes, and would rather spend his time texting with Minho, falling deeper into a pit of unknown feelings that seemed to unravel themselves quicker by the minute. Jisung wasn't sure what he was feeling, but whatever it was, it was strong, and it was persistent.

Even in the days that had passed, Jisung found himself tied to the ideal that he needed to avoid his apartment, following Minho everywhere he could before the inevitable tides of summer were to try and drag them apart. Jisung knew he needed to apply for college soon, or to at least begin the process to appease his already disgruntled parents. He wanted nothing more than to be free of these confines, but given his situation and the pressures of an incoming season change, Jisung feels that he was incapable of doing anything but.

Minho was assured, in some weird way, that they'd come through the otherside of all of this, that they'd be free of the ties that seemed to tug them apart or even just somehow flow with the tide of change flawlessly, but Jisung knew better than to believe that. Minho was just being optimistic, a surprising contrast to the usual depressing demeanor that he held on to, but Jisung didn't mind. He liked this change in Minho, sparking a new curiosity as to what made the elder so enticingly happy as of late. Maybe it was his sudden improvement in grades, or maybe it was their looming graduation, or it could've even just been their relationship. Jisung wasn't sure, but he couldn't bring himself to ask. He wanted to rather enjoy Minho's newly forged attitude, to embrace his change as subtly as he could, hoping that this wasn't just a phase but rather a permanent shift in Minho's overall chemistry, that he'd balance himself out to find a semblance of peace.

Even today, as Jisung strolled through the halls of his busy school, he found himself looking forward to lunch more than anything else. He could see Minho. He could sit with him, he could watch him and be close with him, and most importantly, he could bear witness to Minho simply just existing around those that he thought he'd never be friends with again.

It was a calming sight, one that grounded Jisung in a space of reality more than anything else. It was a reminder that people can change, people can forgive and forget, and most of all, bridges can be rebuilt after being horrifically burnt. Jisung had hoped in a distant past that Minho would trek across the cavern he created, rebuilding his bridges in an attempt to reconnect with the past, to fully heal and move on from the things that he bore witness to all those nights ago. Surely enough, with a little encouragement and coaxing, Minho worked all the way up on his own, leaning on Jisung for support all the while, finally putting an end to the hazardous scape of his mind and setting it to rest.

For a while, Jisung hadn't seen Minho act out, get upset or behave in a manner that would make Jisung believe that he'd been relapsing. Minho seemed to find a sense of peace, somewhere in the midst of the school's usual chaos, and Jisung couldn't help but believe that he might've had something to do with that. He was calmer, more polite; a complete juxtaposition to the male that Jisung knew him to be. His every word was softly spoken, his humor finding a way back onto his tongue as his lips spoke in the form of tease and jest, but not only to Jisung, to those around him. He was comfortable, a sudden shift from the usual tense posture he once ordained, and now held a relaxed composure that spoke volumes of just how much he had truly changed.

The bad boy that Minho was proclaimed to be was nowhere to be seen, locked away inside of a treasure chest and buried along the sand, hidden amongst a raging tide and scattered for someone else to seek. Minho, for all that he claimed, expressed that he "felt like himself again", but when Jisung asked him how or why he felt as such, Minho said that he'd explain "soon enough".

The usual route to the lunchroom was busier than Jisung remembered, scattered with yelling and loud students, those who were all too excited to seek the end of classes in a few days time. There seemed to be little order to the chaos, but Jisung could tell that the teachers didn't mind whatsoever. The end of the year, end of the term; the excitement too big of a fire to simply put out with a bucket of water. Jisung didn't want to rain on their parade either, but he knew all too well that this excitement would last through the trials of the remaining days, carrying his fellow classmates to the rush of graduation day.

Jisung could simply care less for graduation itself, knowing that his entire world would shift the moment he left this school. College would come sooner than he could hope, and even more so would he loom closer to losing Minho. Maybe he was being dramatic, or maybe he was just being realistic. But, he knew more than anything else that this graduation would shift the dynamic he had with Minho, and with that would come the difficulties of long distance.

He would do anything to keep Minho in his life, especially with the very essence of freedom dangling in the space between his fingertips, hanging like a tantalizing fruit, almost impossible to be obtained. College was a hard subject for Minho, as he felt he didn't really have a direction in life, nor a need to pursue something that came with a legal document to proclaim just how hard he studied for something he's hardly passionate about. College felt like a waste of time in Minho's eyes, and the last thing he wanted to do was fund it all himself, either.

Jisung couldn't blame him. Not even in the slightest.

Yet, he walks into the lunchroom anyway, strolling between masses of people and those who stood idly in the walkway, blocking Jisung's view of his table before he breached an impasse. Wooyoung and San were sitting at the table, looking at one another in a grossly affectionate manner, words quietly shared between them as they awaited someone else's presence at the table. So, Jisung approaches quietly, placing his hand on the back of his chair as he pulls it out, placing his bag down beneath the table and between his legs as he sits, drawing the attention of both males.

"You're quiet," Wooyoung observes, resting his chin within his palm. "What's on your mind? You're never so. . . doom and gloom."

"It's just so chaotic here right now," Jisung expresses with a breath, gesturing to the areas behind him as the cafeteria loudens. "I know everyone is excited, but my God. I am not in the mood for so much energy, let alone how loud it is."

"It's a lot," San says with a soft frown. "It's always like this, especially for the seniors. Don't worry, though. Only a few days left."

"Where's your boyfriend?" Wooyoung asks, raising his brow.

"Likely on the way. He's been doing extra credit for his literature course, and I'm sure his teacher was keeping him behind for a chat, per usual."

"He's doing better?" San asks softly, reaching for his lunch tote.

"Yeah, he's really good," Jisung replies, trying to offer a smile in turn. "He's just been a little stressed about exams and everything, but I keep trying to tell him that it's okay to be nervous. I just wish that he'd realize that he's smarter than he leads on."

"Oh, I know he's smart," Wooyoung interjects, pointing at Jisung with one of his chopsticks. "He's giving you the pity card because he doesn't want to admit that he's actually good at something."

"He's always been like this?" Jisung asks, watching as Wooyoung rolls his eyes with a slight nod of his head.

"Always–" Wooyoung laughs quietly, looking down at his tray of food. "It's cute, though. He's not trying to be dismissive or anything, but he's genuinely never satisfied with anything that he does. Somehow, you make him believe that he's capable of something. The fucker is so hard-headed that he'd never believe a word out of my mouth."

"Speaking of hard-headed–" San quips, gesturing to someone behind Jisung. "Hi, Jeongin. How's your attitude today?"

"Bitter," Jeongin says, near-deadpan. "I hate this place."

"As do we all," Jisung returns with a faux-smile, his eyes alight with dawned humor. "Where's Lix?"

"He's. . . talking to someone." Jeongin shrugs, sitting down in his seat. "Hyunjin, I think?"

"Oh?" Jisung's eyes widen, taking in the impact of Jeongin's words.

"Felix seemed. . . uncomfortable, but he's too nice to say no, especially to him," Jeongin continues, his voice trailing off as his eyes glance up, catching sight of another approaching person.

Before Jisung could look, he felt a hand gently caress his shoulder just as lips pressed a kiss into his hair on the crown of his head, a warm reminder of the person he missed the most.

"Sorry I'm late," Minho says quietly, moving to settle into his seat across from Jeongin. "What are you guys talking about?"

"Felix is talking to Hyunjin," Jisung replies, watching as Minho's eyes also widen, a myriad of shock and evident surprise.

"Oh? Really?" Minho glances towards Wooyoung and San, who seemed just as surprised as he was. "I didn't expect Hyunjin to talk to him so soon."

"Did he tell you about it?" Jisung asks, but Minho shakes his head.

"No, but– I don't know, maybe, kind of? He's been really cryptic with me as of late, and he mentioned something in theory about discussing a time to sit down and talk with Felix, I just didn't think he'd do it at school."

"Well, color me impressed," San says, earning a scoff from Wooyoung.

"It's about time Hyunjin owned up to the shit he did, and I'm just happy that things are. . . I don't know, settling down in time for summer break." Wooyoung glances at San, leaning into his partner's side. "It'll make hanging out easier, especially so we can all spend time together before college."

"Where are all of you going, by the way?" Minho asks, placing his hand on Jisung's knee below the threshold of the table.

"San and I are going to remain here so we can head to a local university. He wants to chase a dancing career, and I. . . I don't know, I don't really have an ambition besides living comfortably. Nothing speaks to me in terms of a career." Wooyoung shrugs, picking at his food.

"My family wants me to be a pharmacist, or a lawyer, or something of a worthy caliber," Jeongin explains, rolling his eyes. "I would rather take a year off, go explore and enjoy life for once, but they'd rather see me dead before abandoning my studies."

"My parents are the same," Jisung admits, feeling Minho squeeze his knee. "They want me to head into the medical field, and they will not allow me to choose otherwise."

"That sucks," Wooyouing says, his lips softly curved into a frown. "I'm sorry, to both of you. It's your life; why aren't you allowed to live it?"

"Well, when your parents control your tuition, the car you drive, your bank account–" Jisung says with a rapt breath, almost as if he was merely exhausted by the topic itself. "I don't have a say in the matter, and honestly, I'd rather just do what they want to just get by. They want me to be successful and to live comfortably, just like they do–"

"But at the cost of what? Your own happiness?" San asks, setting his utensils down. "Jisung, you need to always come first to everyone else's wishes. This is your life, and you're letting someone else dictate your hopes and dreams for you."

"It's. . . not important," Jisung dismisses, looking away, trailing his eyes towards Minho. "What's the plan for you? I never hear you talk about it."

"Let's not worry about it," Minho says quietly, reaching for his bottle of water. "I. . . haven't thought about it, and I'd rather not think about it right now. Where's Felix?"

"Minho–"

"There he is," Wooyoung says, gesturing towards an incoming Felix, who seemed slightly distressed.

"Sorry," Felix mumbles, sitting down in the seat next to Jisung. "That. . . was weird. I don't even know how to explain what just happened."

"You talked with Hyunjin?" Jisung asks, earning a slightly surprised glance from Felix in turn.

"How did you–?"

"Jeongin saw you," Jisung mutters, observing as Felix's jaw tenses.

"Yeah. . . well, Hyunjin just wanted to apologize, but he kept–" Felix sighs, "–he kept overly apologizing and he was obviously upset, and I just. . . I felt uncomfortable. How am I supposed to accept his apology when he won't admit to what he did?"

"So, he's avoiding the topic?" Minho asks.

"Not entirely, no. He's just apologizing in general, and I just want him to admit to the things he's done, you know? I want him to admit fault for lying to me, not to just apologize because he feels bad."

"Well, he's at least apologizing, right?" Wooyoung asks, but Felix shakes his head.

"I don't want to accept a pity apology, Woo, I want something genuine; for us to talk and for him to see the true wrongs in the things he did. He broke me, and I know. . . I know I can come across as bubbly and tough, because I don't let a lot of things get to me–" Felix trails off, his eyes cast down at the surface of their lunch table. "But Hyunjin. . . he's my weakness. He knew just how to hurt me and to tear me apart with just a few little words. They didn't just hurt me, they cut me deeply, leaving scars that feel impossible to let heal. So. . . yeah, a generalized apology just isn't enough."

"I'm sorry, Lix," Jisung says quietly, keeping his voice low. "Hyunjin knows he did something wrong, I just think he's scared to admit to it."

"He's scared of hurting you, Felix," Minho interjects, setting down his drink. "I've seen this from him before, and I can tell you with genuine honesty that all Hyunjin wants to do is apologize and make amends. He knows what he did, and he knows that he trusted the wrong person in believing that Mingi held any credible intent in regards to the Hongjoong situation. Hyunjin is a good person, but. . . he's just like me. We trusted the wrong person."

"I know that," Felix admits, his gaze avoidant. "I want to believe him, and more than anything, I want to fix things between us. But. . . I don't know. The damage might be too much."

Jisung shares a glance with Minho, feeling as the male's hand tightens slightly on his knee once more. Jisung knew more than anything that Felix wanted to reconcile with Hyunjin, but he hadn't known the true depth of Felix's pain. Had it really been woven so deeply that a mere apology wasn't enough? Or, was Felix holding on to too much that the mere idea of trying to talk through it all was insurmountable? Jisung wanted to hope that one day Felix could move past all of this, but he understood the pain of being mistreated and unheard. Though the situation was different, his parents showed him the same kind of treatment. The lack of interest, the dismissive behavior, the distrust and distaste; it was all familiar.

But for where Jisung's parents sought to ruin his relationship and control his every means of life, Hyunjin failed to pick and believe in the truth, abandoning a relationship in fear of the control that Mingi held over him. It was difficult, and in some weird way, Jisung empathized with Felix more than he realized. Felix was still in love with the person who hurt him, and that in itself, was a fear that Jisung could recognize without hesitation; the pain of being unable to move on.

The day wrought on seamlessly. Jisung parted ways with his friends and moved onto his classes, moving throughout the routine in a careful bout of quiet optimism. He would see Minho in just a few short minutes, walking to their usual spot at the park to enjoy the solitude of privacy for a little while longer. Jisung partially knew that his parents likely understood where he was and who he was with, but he didn't care.

The one thing he wanted to control in his life was that of his own friendships and his relationship, entertaining whatever presence in his life without the care of needing his parent's approval of whoever he was spending his time with. For once, he sought to control something of his own, and if it can't be his own dreams and wishes, then it shall be that of his own love life.

Now, as he was leaving his final class of the day, he made his way through the halls, steering clear of other students as he made his way to his locker, trying to ignore the jests and calls from down the hall. Mingi was yelling at someone, and Jisung couldn't be bothered to find out as to who he was teasing today. It could be anyone at this point, but given the end of the term and Mingi's unrelenting will to make others uncomfortable, Jisung assumed it was someone else who had been on his radar, now ignoring the senseless pull to torment Jisung and Minho.

Though, his voice carried far, bouncing off the halls and reverberating around the thickened corridor, endlessly full of life that seemed to be in a rush to escape the packed halls of a school they'd soon be void of. Jisung wanted to ignore Mingi, and in full honesty, he never truthfully wanted to see him again. Though, he was sure that this wouldn't be the end of him, and there'd be more torment to foresee itself in his future over the course of the summer.

So, he grabs his bag and closes his locker, bidding adieu to one of his final days spent in this very hall and moving onwards, hoping for a new pull at life that would draw him in deeper to the throes of his relationship. Minho was everything he needed, as far as he was concerned. He could care less about college, and he really couldn't find the motivation to return back to studying once the summer had passed. He wanted to relax, to explore the countryside, to visit the beach and to visit places in Korea that he longed to visit. But a year off was equivalent to dismissing college completely, and in his parent's eyes, a life without going to college was one of failure.

So, Jisung promised himself that he'd devote his summer to spending time with Minho, knowing that his days were likely numbered before distance could truly enact a fracture into their bond.

Yet, even as he walked, Jisung tried to ignore the gnawing realization that their time would become limited the moment classes ended. He was headed to see Minho, and they, as they usually had, would walk to the park, hand in hand, spending time together as often and as long as they could. Minho had been traveling home earlier as of late, likely having something to do with his awful father, but he hadn't said as to why. Jisung knew they'd have to talk about it eventually, but he'd never pry. It was Minho's reality to share, when, and only when, he was ready to. As Jisung walked closer, he spotted Minho in his usual location near the school's side door, waiting patiently with his phone in his right hand.

"Minho'ah," Jisung calls, watching as Minho's head tilts up, putting his phone away. A smile weaves its way onto Minho's lips as he moves closer, meeting Jisung halfway.

"Hi," Minho greets quietly, offering his hand out in an open invitation as they move closer to walk out of the doors. "Ready?"

"More than ready," Jisung returns, sliding his hand into Minho's to interlace their fingers.

Minho holds his hand out, pushing the school door open, leading Jisung outside into the warm inviting air. The sun was shining, save for the threat of a few, wispy clouds, shining over the bright hues of green grass and soft pink tree leaves. The pathways at this end of the school were far less crowded and out of the way, leaving them a direct path towards the park that they always ventured to, seeking space in a world that seemed utterly cluttered.

As they walked, there felt no need to withhold words for their day, knowing that they both relied on the peace of simply just being together. There was no rush to speak, no real need to communicate the growing anxiety about the summer, and even still, Jisung felt the need to bring up the conversation they had at lunch, even though he really didn't want to.

"Minho?" Jisung asks, breaking their comfortable silence.

Minho glanced at him, his brows slightly raised as he silently pleaded for Jisung to continue, waiting quietly for a response.

"What did you mean by what you said at lunch?" Jisung continues, pausing his words hesitantly, wetting his lips the moment he speaks again. "I mean. . . in terms of not wanting to talk about it. What happened?"

"I don't really want to talk about this, Ji–"

"I know, and I'm sorry for prying about it," Jisung apologizes quickly, trying to dispel the tension before it even begins. "I just. . . worry incessantly about you. Things seem oddly peaceful right now, but there's something you're not acknowledging, and I just want to see inside your head, if just a little bit. I want to share in your worries–"

"But not about this," Minho interjects, keeping his voice light. "This is beyond our control, Ji. I'd rather just avoid it."

"What do you mean beyond our control? What are you implying?"

Minho pauses, his steps coming to a complete halt as words fail him. Jisung stops too, their hands dangling in the small space between them, indicating a slight bout of distance that had wrapped itself into the folds of their dynamic. Jisung knew Minho would never lie, but whatever this unknown fate was, he knew that part of Minho intended to keep it a rapt secret.

"Please," Jisung pleads softly, feeling Minho gently squeeze his hand. "Don't hide away from me. . . not now."

"You know what the summer means," Minho begins, his entire expression softening with obvious sadness. Jisung nods, keeping his gaze steady despite the current flux of his heart.

"Ji, I don't even know how to say this–" Minho cuts himself off, looking away, his brows slightly pinched. "I. . . my father knows about us. He saw my phone when it was sitting on the table, and he. . . he hates that we're together, that I'm– with a man."

"Minho–" Jisung says quietly, feeling his heart begin to ache.

"He's decided that I'm going to college," Minho explains further, keeping his gaze avoidant, ignoring the soft squeeze that Jisung offered back on his hand.

"We can handle that, Minho, I'm sure that we can handle a drive to see one another–"

"You don't get it, Jisung," Minho remarks, his tone suddenly cold and cut off, evident pain consuming his voice. "He's sending me away."

"Why–? Why are you letting him dictate you like this?"

"He needs me to help my grandmother out, and the city she lives in has the college I'll be attending, apparently. If I don't do it, I'm cut off, just like you would be. Financially, physically, emotionally– everything."

"But, Minho, I don't understand–? I can come see you."

Minho shakes his head, finally allowing himself to look up with tears brimmed on his lash line. "You can't, Jisung. He's sending me overseas."

Jisung feels like he can't breathe; allowing a sharp breath to sink into his lungs just as his eyes widened and his grip tightened on Minho's hand. "W-Where to?"

"The states," Minho mutters. "And I'll be there for four years."