𝑭𝒍𝒐𝒘𝒆𝒓 𝑭𝒊𝒆𝒍𝒅𝒔 - 𝓜𝓲𝓷𝓼𝓾𝓷𝓰

𝓒𝓱; 22 "𝓘 𝓯𝓾𝓬𝓴𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓱𝓪𝓽𝓮 𝔂𝓸𝓾"

And so it started. His phone got taken away, leaving him to have no contact. A few of his dad's people escorted him everywhere, and they definitely monitored what he was doing and who he came across. More specifically, if he would come across Han Jisung or not. Speaking of him, there he was, already approaching him in the school hallway.

"You said you'd call me when you arrived home." Jisung scolded him. Minho remained quiet and turned around to walk the other way, but Jisung grabbed his shoulder. "Why are you walking away from me? I wasn't done yet." Minho yanked off his hand and glared at him. "Can you stop nagging me?! Who do you think you are?" the older snarled back. Jisung froze, a gasp leaving his mouth as he flinched. 

There he was again, the asshole Minho. The Minho Jisung hoped he wouldn't have to see again. "What do you mean?" His lips quivered. Damn it, why did he have to cry again, now out of all times? 

Minho scoffed, a smirk appearing on his face. "Do you really think all of this meant anything?" He let out a laugh and continued. "I wouldn't want to have anything to do with a pathetic fag like you." he ended the sentence, emphasizing the word 'fag'. 

'Fag' so that was what Jisung was to him? Just that and nothing more.

It got harder to breathe for Jisung as his breath stocked in his throat again while he tried to swallow the lump in his throat. So this was a game after all. He knew he shouldn't have trusted him. Then why, why did he fall for his lies? Jisung took a deep breath in, trying to recollect himself, his nails digging into the skin of his palm. 

Minho got left breathless upon feeling the burning hand-mark now covering his cheek. "I am so fucking stupid for believing you all this time!" Jisung cried out. This time it was not only out of dejection, no, it was also the mix of anger raging within. The feeling of being played, the feeling of being lied to. Betrayal. It was a horrible feeling. The butterflies that once swerved around his stomach had been completely destroyed and crushed to pieces. "Lee Minho,"

"I fucking hate you."

And with that Jisung turned around and walked away, sparing him no glance. Not a single drop of attention. Also leaving behind a devastated Minho. 

Minho stumbled back, it was as if his legs had gone numb. He felt something pricking in his eyes. He held his hand against his face, looking down at the palm of his hand. Was he crying? Minho scraped his hand across his face again, leaving his skin to slightly turn red. He couldn't cry. Not in front of this many people. He still had an image to uphold. Minho straightened his back and rose his head. He forced on the cold demeanor before proceeding through the hallway. It was time to forget him, it had already come to this. Why should he care anymore?

"Jisung, if you want to talk about it we are here," Felix reassured him while standing in front of the closed door of Jisung's room. "For real guys, there is no need." he answered back. That only made them more worried. Seungmin sighed in defeat. "Alright, Ji, we'll leave you alone for a bit." Felix looked at his boyfriend. "Minnie, we can't just leave him now," he urged. "Then you can stay here with Jisung." Seungmin turned around to leave. "That jerk is gonna get it." Felix widened his eyes, a spark of anxiety igniting in him as he started to mildly panic. He grabbed his boyfriend's arm, holding him back for a moment. "Seungmin-ah, please don't do anything irrational," he begged him. Seungmin looked back at Felix, his eyes darkening. "I'll teach him a lesson he'll never forget." 

"Ya, Lee Minho!" Seungmin yelled from across the hallway, approaching him with aware steps. He curled his hand into a fist, aiming right at Minho's face. The intensity of the blow made Minho stagger back. Automatically, students gathered around to see the show that was unfolding right before their eyes. Minho's face darkened as he looked up, glaring at Seungmin. "What the fucking hell was that for?!"