Forewarning: Mentions of PAST self harm. No active descriptions of such.

Minho smiled to himself, quickly typing back a response to Jisung's text on his phone. Occupying himself with that conversation, some eclectic mess of four different topics all sprouting at once, trying to keep up with all threads of replies without losing on any of the responses; One conversation about what Jisung should wear in his next stream, debating heavily, complete with pictures of the outfits from Jisung, quick videos of him spinning around in the silk and chains to show off what their arrangement looked like on him, and Minho's fashion advice coming next; Another about the cute cat videos Minho kept sending him instead of doing what he was supposed to be doing, which was... What was it again?; The next conversation thread being about the economy, completely serious in the worries or concerns they shared with one another; The last replies being a string of emojis, a never-ending story with the pictograms creating their own plots, cheese, police car, devil face, skull emoji skull emoji, protractor.

A shadow loomed over him.

Minho looked up from his phone. Tossed a glance to Changbin, strumming on his typical acoustic guitar, switching between those wide frets and the serenity their calm plucking entranced the room with, then turning to write scribbles Minho didn't understand down to the lines of that mess the rock drummer's notebook was. Watching for a moment, the diligent work that soon to be lawyer put in to his song writing, before looking up to the figure lurking above him.

Chan, at the edge of the hammock, staring blankly at the hacker who occupied it. Yeah, Minho got lucky enough to abscond the hammock before anyone else could, so what? And if his 'got lucky' was the reason Changbin had a melted ice pack sitting next to him, who cares? He earned rights to the hammock!

He stared back to the rock drummer.

Quietly.

Waiting as he felt his phone vibrate with notifications from Jisung spamming his chat.

Another beat.

Taking in the Eldrich horror of that drummer, staring blankly back to him.

They stared.

And stared.

Waiting.

Minho could've convinced himself that Chan wasn't a human at that moment. He was a cardboard cutout Changbin had printed, polished, to near realism, in order to coax the hacker out of the swinging fabric of the hammock. He was a mannequin. Painted up with uncanny make-up and airbrushed shadows to match the cascading lights of the rat cave, the blond bleached hair on his head a wig stolen from elsewhere to bring that figure to life. A wax figure, maybe. A wax figurine seemed the most likely, the most realistic.

Wax figurine Bang Chan blinked at him. Yes! A sign! A signal he was alive! Eyelids slowly dropping, opening again, his head moving to stare the hacker down. From the hole in his socks where the horrors of his toe stuck out from, to the relaxed cargo pants he totally paid for with a fair and equal exchange of monetary value for crafted assets from a totally legitimate department store, lingering on the tumbled mess of car keys Minho set on his chest purely to show off the crochet white rabbit keychain Jisung gave him the day before after they ate the dinner Minho made for him together. Then trailed up to the hacker's eyes. Staring him down with a strange expression. A strange unease as he asked vacantly, "What do you think about that... that Seungmin guy?"

"Seungmin? Felix's guy? Uhhhh, he's cool as fuck. He's really hard working, he works construction like crazy and still runs real estate assets for his family, so rich too. He bought me fruit snacks because I hit my head on Felix's counter and let me watch Cocomelon with Eunwoo while he was helping Shithead with a broken pipe," Minho sent a fast text to Hiding, announcing he had to talk with a friend, before he clicked his phone off. Setting it down on his stomach as he continued to feel those vibrations. One after another, words to come back to when he returned from cutting out of the conversation to deal with the falling look on Chan's expression. He made a mental note to either visit Jisung or call with him later to make up for the absence. Especially considering the sudden solemnness taking his friend over while he continued his evaluation, "I like him, I think he's a good guy. Not only would I go get beers with him, I would let him watch my cat." 

The rock drummer seemed to deflate. Shrinking away in the falling of his shoulders and the loosening of his jaw. His usually assertive and dominating tone, that caring well of a strong ground stabilizing that feral group of friends suddenly shattering apart; They may tease Chan often for having poor relationships, but when it came to his friends, that man committed and stayed loyal, stayed a strength for them to come to sip tea with while they spilled their worries. Minho watched that loving presence suddenly crumble at the edge of the hammock, his weak voice arguing back to him, "Well, but, he's almost a decade older AND has a kid."

And unfortunately, recognizing the deadening in those eyes.

The shattering of a glass heart in his chest. 

The pieces clicking together while Chan seemed to shrink smaller in his place.

"Okay, is this about Felix seeing him and maybe wanting to pursue a something more with him?" Minho huffed back to him.

"Maybe...?"

"It's nunya."

"Nunya?"

"Nunya business. They're both adults. They met as adults. I like Seungmin, he's a good guy, he treats Felix well, he's respectful to him, he spoils him, he communicates with him when something happens or bothers him. He's got that, hard working and studious aura about him. Felix is elegant even if he's a little FUCK, Seungmin screams old money, they look great together," Minho fought back to him, earnestly explaining his own thoughts. His own time spent third-wheeling that sprouting couple, though the times came few and far between with his own glimmers of a lighthouse calling him home, acting as backbone to support his argument. To give weight behind his words as he crossed his arms over his chest and finalized, "And Felix has always wanted a kid. Felix and that kid get along like Felix is his own blood. It works. I honestly think they're a really good match for each other." 

Still, Chan shrinked away.

Disappearing within the lost expression barricading him from the other two watching his atypical behavior. Changbin stilling on the guitar he strummed to participate in the conversation, to send puzzled looked that Minho simply waved back to. Fast dismissals of 'I'll tell you later' telepathically communicated to his friend.

Watching while that meek and meager man burrowed himself away within his chest. The contrast of that outward appearance; An unstoppable force on the boisterous rhythms that drumset would bang out to the ripped strings of electric guitars and steady bass notes keeping time with the ticking clock, the piercings littering his ears and the lip ring married to his mouth a stereotypical archetype of who that famous drummer was behind closed doors, and the reflected reality through the looking glass. Through the reflecting pond, how different the inside of that drummer truly was. Weak behind the metal that barricaded him, quiet underneath the slamming drum beats, still the perfect and reserved student they knew back in high school with a bought of scars on his wrists and hidden meanings between the lines of his lyrics.

Beneath it all, Chan was a great person. He always has been.

But he was shit at romance and relationships.

Despite knowing the answer he would receive, Minho still came to interrogate that retreating shell of the rock drummer, "Why are you even bothered about this? You never said you were interested in Felix."

Chan turned his head away.

Hiding within that habit of tonguing at his lip ring to fill the space.

Turning that loop within it's piercing as his eyebrows furrowed together.

Scrunching down before he admitted,

"I like him."

"Oh, that's not what I'm talking about. I know that, I walked in on you two making out on his couch, like, five months ago and neither of you noticed me," Minho chimed. Slightly enjoying the sudden flush of embarrassment that worked it's way up to Chan's ears at the admittance of that unfortunate memory; Minho did accidentally walk in on them and immediately left. Did never want to bring it up. Did know that there was some type of something they were hiding from him in the following months, and the previous secrecy clicking into realization. He folded his arms tighter, doing his best to keep down whatever he was feeling in order to rationalize, "That's why I kept telling both of you to cut it out, because, if this turns into an issue, I don't want to lose you, but I will side with Felix. He's family. He comes first. Us being close friends and him being family causes so many issues."

"Like when I dated Chan's stepmother," Changbin added in.

The hacker agreed, "Yeah, I mean—"

Then cut off.

Sitting up off the hammock as they both looked at the man occupied with playing his guitar.

"I'm sorry what did you just fucking say?"

"What did I say about what?" Changbin glanced up. Looked between them. Pouted his bottom lip and shrugged a confused note, "I didn't say anything."

Did... 

Chan whipped back to Minho, a slight horror paling his face.

You know what, I'm just gonna forget I heard that.

"But now I missed my chance with Felix," Chan quickly got back on track with the topic of conversation. That horror draining away to furrowed eyebrows and a tensing jaw. A rough shove on the hammock that caused it to nearly tip Minho out, before he turned on his heel to storm away, "Because of you! You kept insisting we don't date. We don't get together. We don't give it a shot."

Minho startled. He grabbed up the edge of the fabric beneath him, trying to stabilize himself as it threatened to violently rock him out from the relaxing seat, "Because everyone knows how it ends with you, Chan."

"Like you're any better than me?" The drummer shot back to him. 

Sighing, Changbin tried to set the guitar off to the side to stand, "Now, now, boys—"

"Soccer ball."

"And I'm disqualified from the argument," He flopped back. Grabbing the instrument as he returned to strumming melodies to fill the background of the stuff atmosphere, "I take number one. You guys argue over the second worse."

Even if he could feel his heart squeezing in his chest, Minho pressed Chan, "How am I as bad as you?"

"You have ditched so many relationships. You've ended them two days in, two weeks in, no reasoning, just a shrug and a 'Yup', with some stupid fucking excuse. You can't ever commit to someone," The rock drummer hit back to him. A visible growl beginning to peel his lips back, beginning to angle his chin down with a frustration, an anger directed toward Minho while he tried to stop the vehement lulling of the tilting hammock, foot hitting the wall to brace the momentum to a stop. Even if his own heart shattered at his words, even if his own heart felt as if it would break apart within the other's hands, Minho simply kept his mouth shut while Chan raved, "Every relationship you have, you half-ass it. Even this boy you're fucking? Jisung? It's not even real with him, is it? It's just, you're paying him to let you fuck him."

Even if he could feel his own swell of something bitter locking his throat.

Even if he could feel that soft interior he kept hidden away start to bend with that poisonous touch.

Minho started, searching along the floors for an answer, "Chan, it's..."

I'm not the one who ends it. They do once they know of the ataxia.

Looking deep to the carpet's threads to find the words to say that secret to them.

And I love Jisung.

Before glancing back to the irritated rock drummer.

But Chan is upset. He won't back off right now if I argue back.

Stopping the rocking of the hammock completely, Minho sighed out a heavy note, "It's not your business. Let's end this there."

"I know you're upset but, maybe, you know," Changbin interjected again. Softer, much softer than he spoke with before. Gentler, much gentler to calm the waves of upset that their friend was trying to fight back. The small buds of tears that welled up and the destroyed loss in his expression gutting his body out. A shovel taken to him, gouging him of everything he may have had within as he only hollowed more with Changbin's logical (For once) words, "Felix is stubborn. I love the guy, but he is. When he wants something, he does it even if someone tells him not to. That should say enough for you."

"Why...?" Chan whispered softly turning on his heel as he shuffled away, "I'm not... I'm not that bad. I'm amazing too."

Continuing to walk from the room, to the hallway lifelessly.

"I'm just... Gonna have a sit down and feel sorry for myself."

Before disappearing completely

Minho laid back in the hammock, finalizing with a sympathetic, "He's going to be writing songs about Felix for the next year."

"Let him, it'll help him get over it," Changbin finished gently, returning back to strumming notes on the acoustic guitar to fill the empty spaces their friend left for them to patch up.

But he thought it to be the strangest thing,

That the messages Jisung sent him in his absence had all been deleted.

And no matter how many texts he sent to ask what he said,

Jisung left him on read.

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Time to hit the crappy stuff 👍👍