༄ "SAMMY."

Again, the soft whisper next to her. Except this time, she didn't enjoy the context as much.

The friend group still hadn't left. Some of them were still too shocked to walk properly, or the burns on their skin were still getting treated by the doctors that showed up.

Luckily, the friends weren't hurt so badly that they had to go to the hospital.

They sat against a wall, a road the only thing between them and the club, which wasn't recognizable anymore.

"Sammy." Minho touched her shoulder, wiping the tears that were falling off her cheeks with his thumb. "Sweetheart, everyone's safe. Firemen are solving everything and it looks like a lot of people got out safely. And Jeff is right here, just like me." He intertwined his fingers with hers. "Just try to calm down a bit, alright?"

She took some big breaths, shuddering. "It was so crowded," she said quietly. "And I bumped into people and accidentally stepped on them. Newt and I were planning to buy those fireworks ourselves—"

"It's not our bloody fault, Sam," Newt cut her off. He crouched beside them. "It was an accident. People were havin' fun with fireworks and decorations caught fire. Now, it's gonna be alright."

It took a while for the words to get through her head, but then she nodded. "Okay," she whispered. "Could we maybe go home? I don't want to watch anymore."

"Of course. I'll ask Jeff to call your parents, okay? They'll pick you two up."

Sam looked up at Minho. "What about you?"

"I'll be fine, Sammy." He smiled softly, but the pain was in his eyes. "I'm going to check up on Thomas, alright? He seems a bit upset."

Once Minho left, Sam turned her head to Newt, but she averted her eyes. "He's going to blame himself," she said, no longer whispering, but it was close enough, "that's why I want you to make him go with you tonight. Please."

"Okay," he promised. "I will."

"Thank you, Newt." She did her best to smile at him, her eyes a bit glossy. She didn't know how many people had died this night, but it must've been a big number. So many people had been in the building.

"Mom's gonna pick us up right now. Dad's getting air beds ready for anyone who wants to stay with us." Jeff moved in front of her. "Does Minho want to stay?"

She shared a glance with Newt, then nodded. "I'll ask. Can you ask if Dad comes driving here too? He could bring others home."

Jeff nodded and started the job as Sam, slowly, got up and walked over to Minho. "Hey, Thomas. You alright?"

The now paler boy nodded. "Will be fine. Thanks, Sam. Are you okay?"

She nodded too. "I'm okay." And turned to Minho. "You can stay with me tonight. Do you want that? I'd rather not have you to be alone."

She took his hands to stop him from picking the skin beside his nails while he nodded. "Yeah. That would be great, Sammy."

A small smile at him. "Alright. Both of my parents will be picking people up. My dad with his business bus, so only one person can go with him. Four others fit in my mom's car."

Five minutes later, she saw her dad's black business bus drive closer. Except, it was her mom driving.

Sam shrugged off thinking that was weird. She couldn't deny that her father was a better driver, so maybe it was better he transported four kids, and her mother just one.

"Samira. Oh, honey—" She got pulled into a tight hug by her mother, and had trouble hugging back. "I'm so glad you're okay."

"Yeah, I'm fine," she assured. "Can we just get out of here? Fast, please? I don't like it."

"Of course, sweetie." A glare at her friends before Edith lead her daughter into the car, who was happy enough her mother seemed to be in a nice mood today.

Soon, the club disappeared out of sight and it was just the two of them left.

Sam stared out of the window, shivers still running down her spine. "I was so scared, Mom."

Her hands tightened around the wheel. "What happened? I caught some things online, but nothing was clear."

"They sold fireworks. The decorations caught fire and it was so crowded that there was barely any air left, and it was very hard to reach the exit." Sam looked down.

Her mother sighed. "Why'd they sell fireworks in the first place? Seriously... inside?"

"It did give a nice vibe. If we would've known, Newt and I would've never walked all the way to the back to see how much the sparkles—"

"You wanted to buy the sparkles?"

Sam stopped for a second. "Yes."

"I thought your father and I made it very clear it's not smart to use fire inside."

"Yeah, I know, but it looked harmless, Mom. We weren't thinking. We drank. And—"

"I don't understand why you didn't stop them in the first place."

She frowned. "...what— how— what do you mean?"

"You could've walked up to whoever held those sparkles and warned them."

"Do you think I knew what was going to happen?" Sam let go of a shaky breath. "Mom, trust me, if I would've known—"

"You're not thinking straight anymore."

"I was drun—"

"You should've realized it wasn't smart to bring sparkles inside. I can't believe you even considered buying them, Samira. This... it disappoints me you didn't think it through for a second."

"Mom—"

"Why can't you be responsible for once? This is exactly why I don't want you to go out. I leave you for one second and this happens! Jeff has burns. Imagine what the owner of that club must be going through right now, and—"

Sam didn't want to listen anymore. She bit her lip until it drew blood, forcing tears away. After both Newt and Minho their words, she believed she couldn't do anything about it. That had been an accident. And now her mother just had to make things worse.

The whole ride long, she was ranting. Sam tried not to listen as much as possible, and just stared out of the window until they arrived home, then immediately got out of the car and walked inside, right into her father's arms.

"Dad," she cried out. This only made it harder to hide the tears, but she wanted to hug him. So she did. Tightly.

"Oh, Cheeri." He lay his hand on the back of her head. "I'm so glad nothing happened to you. So glad."

"Me too," she murmured, wiping her cheeks. "Did you already bring the others home?"

He nodded. "Since Thomas's parents are gone for the weekend, he's staying here for tonight, just like Minho. Jeff is with Thomas, Gally, and Brenda. They're in our living room. Minho went upstairs."

She nodded. "Alright."

But then, her face paled. Minho went upstairs. "Oh, shit," she mumbled. "Uh— I'll check up on him. See you, Dad!"

She rushed upstairs as fast as she could, knowing what an upsetting night like this could lead to, and opened the door to her room.

Indeed. He was sitting on her bed with one clenched fist and the other one wrapped around his wrist, so tightly his knuckles turned white.

"Hey, Minho—" Fast, she sat down next to him, lying her hand down on his. "You alright?"

His breathing heaved. She stared at his face. His eyes were squeezed shut, and his lips were pressed together. "I don't think I'm able to stop myself, Sammy."

"You can," she assured, her heart breaking. She couldn't imagine what voices in his head might've been telling him right now, or the things he was blaming himself for. "Just try to think of—"

"I stepped on people," he cried. "I pushed them away because I was so selfish to get to you and when I got you I pushed even more people away and they're probably—"

"Minho," she urged, a bit sterner. "Please don't think like that." I'm thinking like that myself. "It's not your fault." Mom says it's my fault. "And you're not selfish."

His hand ran over the sides of his head, and he seemed close to pulling his own hair out. "I can't get my mind on anything else," his voice broke in the middle of his sentence.

"Maybe something less harmful?" She suggested. "A rubber band—"

He shook his head. "Too less pain. I really need to..." His breathing sped up again. "...to— to, I don't know, Sammy—" with desperate, big eyes, he stared at her. "I don't know what to do."

Neither did she.

She couldn't just walk away and allow him to grab something sharp.

But neither could she force him to go through this torture.

She imagined it to feel like you were very angry. So angry that you'd even hit the wall if you bumped into it, or mad enough to have the urge to throw things out of the window.

And she imagined that if you felt that anger, and couldn't find a way to disregard it, it would kill you. Or at least, feel like it was killing you.

Sam wrapped an arm around him. "Is this okay?" She wondered, hoping it didn't make him feel even more overwhelmed, or as if he was suffocating.

His shoulders started to shake, but he nodded. "Yeah, that's okay." Again, his voice broke, but this time, it broke into a sob.

And another, and another one. Soon, Sam rested her back against the wall as Minho lay on his side, his head on her stomach and his knees pulled up to his chest as the sobs grew louder.

She held his hand. Kept whispering things she hoped were reassuring, and allowed him to cry as hard as he wanted.

He let everything out. Deep inhales followed by more sobs and deep exhales and shaky breaths. His chest moved fast. His shoulder shook even heavier, and dozens of tears wet her shirt.

Gently, Sam moved her fingers over his scalp. She didn't mind that he was crying at all. In no circumstances she minded, and definitely not now. It seemed to relief him, which she was super grateful for.

As Minho kept crying, but the volume of his sobs lowered, there was a knock on the door before her father stepped inside, two cups of tea in his hand.

The man froze for a second. He stared from Sam to Minho. Once his gaze softened, he put both cups down and gave Sam a smile, mouthing: "Let me know if you need anything", and she nodded.

Minho only stopped crying a few minutes after her father left, and clung around Sam as he wiped his tears away and took some deep breaths.

"I hope you feel better," she whispered softly. "And here, Dad brought tea."

With shaking hands, the boy drank a few sips, then lay back down in Sam's arms.

She rubbed his back. "Do you want to sleep? Shower? Change?"

"Sleep, please," even his whisper was hoarse. Sam clicked the lights off and covered both of them under the sheets. This time, they spooned the other way around.

"Is this alright?" She whispered. He nodded, tightening his grip on her hand. "Good night."

"Good night," he mumbled. Sam placed a kiss on his cheek, then proceeded to touch his scalp until  she fell asleep.