Chapter Text
The sounds around Minho were drowned out by his own screaming. He didn’t even realize he was doing it, but everything hurt. He couldn’t move, he couldn’t fight back. He was helpless, but he was also only twelve years old.
Again, when he was thirteen. He began to fight back. But the hand squeezed his throat tighter, the other hand holding his wrist down tightly. Bruises had started to appear like thin air around his body. Teachers and students asked what happened, and he always replied with, “I fell”.
At fourteen, Minho found out through a tv show about releasing pain you felt inside. His friends, at the time, always talked and glorified scars and how it brought attention to them. Minho didn’t glorify the self inflicted wounds, he knew better than to do that. They were tucked away neatly under his longs sleeves. His wrists, thighs, stomach and forearms tattooed by the faint red lines and the purple blotches. His nights were the same every night. The struggle, trying to escape, the pain, followed by his small, tiny, and sharp friend who helped release the pain he felt. It was the first time his predator said, “no one will ever love with those ugly scars”.
At fifteen, he came out to his mother. Each night got worse. He’d hear his mom crying from the other side of the wall. He laid there wondering why he could hear her crying, but she didn’t hear his cries for help- he came to conclusion that maybe she didn’t care. He’d always wonder why she’d choose those for him, why the thought him of liking boys made her this upset. His self harm got worse.
At sixteen, it was a normal routine for the boy. He’d try to lock his door and stay quiet. His body would tense at the sound of the creaking floors by his room. It was a never ending cycle, but as long as his mom stayed alive and healthy he kept his mouth shut. He couldn’t bear to give her anymore bad news.
At seventeen, he met him. Jisung. Han Jisung, his best friend, not knowing yet, but in a few years he’d become his boyfriend. They met through a small school club. Jisung was only two years younger than him. He spent most days at Jisung’s house whenever he got the chance too. He’d felt like he’d never been home and along with getting his first job, he’d work many long hours to avoid being home. His uncle frequented his room less than the years before, but Minho wasn’t complaining.
At eighteen, he was quick to move out. He was nervous to leave his mother behind, but she begged him to succeed at university and make something of himself- she was never able to do that. But one night he got a phone call, his mother crying- sobbing into the phone and he eventually moved back in and stayed at home throughout university. The man in the shadows haunting Minho’s dreams stayed close.
Now, Minho is twenty six years old. He owns a local sit-in cafe with his friend who graduated university with a business degree. He focuses on the signature coffees and upgrading equipment while his partner focused on the logistics, financial prospect, and employees.
“Minho, you need to stop feeding the stray cats in the alley by the back door,” Chan, his business partner and closest friend, said to older boy as he pets one of the kittens head lightly.
“They’re not strays,” Minho shrugged at the words, “besides, they need food and water,” he said placing a small metal bowl of water by the door before closing it and locking it.
“Anyway, we have some new hires starting tomorrow morning. I want one of them working the bakery and the other one working the floor. The register, the tables, cleaning and-“
“Whatever you want to do, Minho, you are the boss after all,” Chan chuckled patted the boys back.
“Perfect, so as the boss….” Minho began and trailed off, making his eyes soft, “Jisung and I have plans. Do you mind-“
“No, not at all. I’ll close up for the day. And I’ll see you guys tonight anyway. Felix invited me for game night,” Chan smiled widely, “when are you guys going to-you know?”
Minho froze at the question at hand, “what do you mean?” he knew exactly what Chan meant.
Minho liked Jisung for years, probably before high school even ended. But the boy was younger than him by a few years and he would feel horrible if he was the reason Jisung strayed from school, work, or his other friends just to spend time with him.
“Well I happen to be in the friend group as well, and I’m pretty sure Jisung wants to do very not work appropriate things to you. He’s ready to take things to the next level,” Chan wiggled his eyebrows at his friend.
Minho picked up the closest thing, which was a rag, and chucked it at his friend, “dont ask questions like this at work,” Minho said walking out the front door after saying bye to the few employees out on the floor working.
Minho made it home, his hand trembled as he pulled out his key to unlock the front door. His breathing picked up a bit as he pushed open the door.
The silence was deafening to the boy as he took off his shoes. He hung his jacket close to the door.
“Ma,” he called out.
The house always looked the same since he was younger. They had the same grey walls and hardwood floors since he was a kid.
“Minho!” he heard her sweet voice coming from the kitchen.
He walked toward the sound of her voice. The smell of cake suddenly engulfed him as he opened his arms to give her a hug, “I was hungry and all we had that sounded good was the box of cake mix,” she sighed showing him the vanilla moist cake on the counter.
“Nutritious and delicious,” he responded and took a fork from the drawer to try the cake.
“You know, this was your father’s favorite cake,” she whispered.
Minho’s father passed away fourteen years before this day. He died quickly in a car accident. The doctor that had performed his autopsy said the impact killed him instantly, it was very likely he didn’t even feel a second of pain, which helped Minho feel at peace with his death.
“I thought he liked chocolate,” Minho joked.
It was a running joke that his fathers favorite flavors consisted of orange flavored candies and chocolate flavored desserts, although he hated those flavors the jokes somehow kept his spirit alive in the eerie house.
“Tae went grocery shopping- oh and he’s going to bring dinner home on the way back,” his mother said.
Minho’s body shook with fear at the thought of his uncle coming back to the house soon.
Quickly after his father died, his mother’s brother moved in with them. His mother grew up in a wealthy house- very wealthy- she never had to work for a thing so when she married she was just a house wife. She liked it that way, but with the sudden passing of her husband, she had no means to help her get a job. Besides the life insurance that kept their house in good shape, she felt helpless and asked her brother to come move in. He supported his sister and her son.
Although, Minho wouldn’t have called his help ‘support’, he’d never disrespect his uncle in front of his mother- or in front of anyone for that matter. No one knew what had happened between the four walls he called his bedroom.
Since he was twelve, he blamed himself for what his uncle did. He hated the other man with a passion, but he can’t help but blame himself.
“Oh, I won’t be here for dinner. I’m going out,” Minho washed his fork quickly, “tell him thank you for me,” he kissed his mother’s cheek.
“Wait, Minho,” she said grabbing his upper arm.
He flinched at the impact, even if his mother’s touch was gentle. He’s accustomed to hate any touch.
“Maybe you should stay home for dinner. You never spend time with either me or Tae anymore. It’s really-“ her voice quivered, he could tell she was trying not to cry, “he dropped his entire life to come here and help us. He’s been working hard since your father died and I’ve never seen you spend time with him when it isn’t forced by me,” she took a deep breath, her eyes pleaded.
“I’m sorry, not tonight,” he shook her hand off of him and continued to walk up the stairs to his room.
“Yes tonight. Who do you have plans with? Jisung?” He could tell his mother was disgusted saying the youngers name out loud.
“Yes,” he was ashamed of it, “I’m sorry. mother. I know this isn’t who you wanted me to be with, but I love him,” he said softly.
He turned around quickly at the sound of the car stopping in the driveway. He gotten quite good at hearing those small things around him.
“Minho,” he heard her call out as he closed his bedroom door.
He pressed his back against the door and grabbed his lighter that sat on the desk next to the door. His breaths quickened as he slid down the door slowly and rolled his sleeves up.
Tears pricked his eyes as he ignited the flame and pressing the small fire against his forearm.
He couldnt remember when the burning started. He felt disgusted with himself at the thought of cutting, but he needed something else to help keep his pain hidden.
Minho grunted as he felt the sizzling sensation on his skin and his breath began to slow. He counted the seconds before moving the flame from his arm and crying quietly.
He did it again. This time counting to twenty seconds and biting his bottom lip. He could feel the skin of his lip ripping just a little and soon tasted the metallic taste of blood.
He ignited the lighter one more time and pressed it against his arm once more, blisters instantly began to bubble around the sore.
He could never forgive himself for upsetting his mother. He loved his mother. She was truly his best friend, but he always felt sorry for the poor excuse of a son she created.
“Jisung,” Minho smiled and waved at the boy.
The whole friend group was meeting at a local arcade in the city. It had just opened up and it was geared more toward an older age group with older games in the arcade, but Jisung wanted to go so bad- so they all agreed.
“Min!” Jisung screamed jumping up and down, “I already beat a game waiting for you guys,” he engulfed Minho in a hug before going back to bragging about his first defeat.
“That’s so exciting, sung,” Minho said kissing the boys cheek.
“Oh we have to do the claw machine. They’re filled with cute little cats-“ Jisung began but suddenly stopped before dragging the boy over to a mario kart game, “these are never empty. Let’s play,” he screeched pushing Minho down into the chair.
Chan and Felix showed up in matter of thirty minutes after Minho came. The two were still racing on mario kart, Jisung refused to get up until he was satisfied with getting first place.
“One second,” Jisung seethed as he tried to pull Minho’s steering wheel.
“Hey!” Minho swatted his hand away, throwing his hands up in victory as he still won first place.
“This isn’t fair…. again!” Jisung yelled pulling out his arcade card.
“Or- here’s an idea. We play something the four of us can play,” Chan chuckled at the sight of the sour face boy.
“Or we can play guitar hero, Jisung sucks at that one,” Felix said, “like most games,” he whispered the last part.
Felix jumped at light smack on his arm given to him by Minho, “be nice to him, he’s sensitive”.
Jisung rolled his eyes and wrapped his hands around Minho’s arm, “whatever. Let’s play,” there was a moment of silence as they walked around the arcade, “dance dance revolution?” Jisung squeaked as he pulled Minho over to the brightly colored machine.
“Great,” he said with a smile.
“Should we do teams? Me and Felix versus you two?”
Jisung eagerly nodded swiping his card on the machine, “I happen to be lucky having Minho as my partner- he’s a dance expert,” Jisung tried bragging to the others.
Jisung was hyperventilating by the end of the third round, quickly taking off his sweater, “Min, aren’t you hot?” he said wheezing. The younger boy wasn’t used to all of this physical activity.
“Not at all,” Minho lied through his teeth. He was in fact sweating to death under his sweatshirt. He just couldn’t bare the eyes that would stare at him if he expose his arms.
Especially since he promised Jisung he wouldn’t continue to hurt himself.
The night ended just a little past midnight as Minho walked up to his front door again. He took a deep breath before quietly shutting it behind him. He didn’t want to awaken the beast that lies within the house.
“Minho?” he heard a soft voice call from above the stairs.
“Yes?” he hummed slowly trudging toward the voice.
“I’m really sorry for making you feel…. like I don’t accept you and Jisung,” his mother cried silently as she wrapped her arms around the boys shoulders, “I love you and I love who are. I stayed up all night worried whether or not you’d come home tonight,” she whispered to him.
“It’s okay. I love you too,” he whispered back smiling at his mother, “I promise it’s okay,” he knew his mother would be still worry.
“I was thinking…. maybe we could have Jisung for dinner this week? I’d like to get to know him as your boyfriend and not as your friend,” she squeezed his arms.
“I’d like that,” his stomach flipped at the thought of his mother wanting to meet Jisung, but anxious about his uncle.
“I’m sure Tae would also like to meet him,” she smiled, “sleep tight, honey,” she kissed his cheek and walked back to her.
He opened his room door, making sure to click the lock, staring at his bed. The memories taunted him and stripped him of sleeping comfortably in this bed ever again. He grabbed his blanket and pillow and sat in his computer chair. He placed his feet on his desk and leaned the chair all the way back.