hate to love you // minsung

3

Back in his room, Jisung was all alone with his thoughts, and his mind tortured him by conjuring up memories that he wished would go away.

He thought of all the times that he'd fallen asleep, thinking about Minho's smile and laugh and imagining his arms around him as he slept. He thought of how Minho's cold exterior gave way to soft, sweet love for his members. He thought of one time when he and Minho had been sitting next to each other, working, and had the thought that he wouldn't mind if Minho leaned over and kissed him right then.

Jisung physically cringed, sinking down to the floor with his hands pressing on his head, suppressing a scream, violently trying to expel the memories and the thoughts that made him a sinner. An ache in his head and nose built up, suppressed emotions wanting to be let out.

He felt this strange hatred for Minho because of how much he reminded him of himself. Of how much he loved Minho, but in the wrong way.

A few hours later, Chan came into Jisung's room, not fully understanding the situation and intending to confront Jisung on what he'd said to Minho to upset him. But all the anger vanished as Chan spotted him hunched over on his bed, the blanket covering his body.

"Jisung?"

"Go away!" Jisung's voice sounded muffled, but not just from the blanket. It was thick with tears.

Chan sat down next to him and gently pulled the blanket off of Jisung's head. Before Jisung could turn away, Chan caught sight of Jisung's splotchy red face and the dried tears on his cheeks.

"Don't look at me!"

"I'm not." Chan pondered what to do or say. He wasn't sure what was going on with Jisung or Minho. So he offered to do what he did best. "Do you want a hug?"

Jisung let his hands fall limply to his lap, tears forming in his eyes. As he started to cry again, Chan hugged him and rocked him back and forth. He buried his face in Chan's chest, trying to contain his heaving sobs.

"I hate myself so much," he sobbed, and Chan felt his heart break into two pieces. He swallowed the lump in his throat, trying to hold it together for Jisung.

"It's okay . . . Minho loves you no matter what . . . You two will make up."

"No, you don't understand!" Jisung cried, pushing Chan away, and hanging his head so that the other couldn't see him in such a state. "It's not just that. I - I - I -" Jisung's mind was consumed by this internal turmoil. He couldn't say it. He couldn't be -

"Why do you hate yourself?"

Jisung didn't answer the question. "I can't," he howled. "I can't be."

Chan couldn't hold back his emotions anymore, seeing his friend in so much pain, salty droplets leaking out his eyes. "What is it?" he begged Jisung. A vague idea had begun to form in Chan's head of what could be causing Jisung's distress and why he said those hateful words to Minho, but he didn't want to assume. He wanted Jisung to explain.

But Jisung couldn't say the words out loud. He could barely acknowledge it to himself.

They sat quietly, sniffling for a long moment before Chan decided to be more straightforward. "Do you want me to say it?"

Jisung looked up in shock, forgetting his embarrassment. "You know?"

"Please don't be mad," Chan said quietly, but Jisung panicked, his body trembling.

"How could you possibly know? Does anyone else know?"

Chan tried to wrap his arms around Jisung again to calm him, but Jisung ripped them off, and the older one leaned back. "Okay, okay, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that. No one knows anything, not even me. If people jump to conclusions just based on what they see, that's on them."

"But what are you talking about? What would they see that would make them think that I . . . ?"

Chan sighed, thinking of how to explain. "It's like how you can cuddle your friends and the people you have crushes on," he said, and Jisung's stomach turned at the thought of all the times he'd hugged Minho, subconsciously wanting to be more than friends. "So people could see you cuddling . . . someone that you're just friends with and assume that you have a crush on them."

Jisung sensed Minho's name in Chan's pause.

Chan changed the subject. "What made you think that being gay is gross?"

Jisung's mind remembered all the messaging he'd received as a child. He remembered that any reference to him and his friends liking each other romantically was met with overdramatic disgust, as if to assure everyone that they were straight, only straight. Only normal. He remembered gay people being the butt of jokes in cartoons, or straight up villainized. He remembered the topic of gay people being avoided being brought up, a shameful secret, something too unholy for children to hear about.

Tears flowed down his face as he realized that he was the secret. He was the person that would be treated like a freak, mocked, made into a pariah.

"My entire life."

Chan nodded, and Jisung continued. "You don't know Chan, you didn't grow up here, or in some super religious family. I know homophobia is bad everywhere, and that there are places that are so much worse than Korea, but it's still so bad here."

Chan moved off the bed for a moment, returning with a box of tissues. Jisung gratefully accepted one, blowing his nose. "Your family is so accepting, but I have no idea what mine would do. At best they'll pretend that nothing ever happened. And at worst . . . I'll never see them again. And I'll lose my job here and have nowhere to go."

Chan nodded sadly, pained with knowledge of how fortunate his upbringing was and hating that everyone didn't have the same kind of unconditional love. He cleared his throat, trying not to cry again. "It must be really difficult knowing that you aren't supported. And that your whole life is at risk."

Jisung nodded, tears drying on his face. "The whole world feels so unsafe. And cold. And lonely."

Chan hugged him. "I know the world feels that way. And that it's true in a lot of cases. But you know I love you. We all love you so much, you know that? We'll always support you, and help you."

Jisung nodded, unable to properly express his thanks when he was so emotional and on the verge of crying again. He cleared his throat. "That was the first time I've ever talked to someone about that."

"I'm proud of you."

They were quiet for a moment.

Jisung felt a hollowness in his heart. "I still hate myself so much. I wish I wasn't . . . It would be so much easier if I wasn't . . ."

Chan couldn't help but agree with the latter part of his sentence, but knew that Jisung deserved better than to deal with the people who hate him for being gay and made him miserable. "I see how it's easier being straight, because people treat you better. But regardless, you don't deserve to be tricked into hating yourself for who you love. You're not an awful person for being . . . "

Jisung wiped his eyes. "You can say it."

"Gay."

It was strange hearing the word 'gay.' Jisung didn't think that he'd heard that word out loud ever, and definitely never to describe himself. He swallowed. "But it's not just that. I feel terrible that I yelled at him and he doesn't even know why." They both knew that he was talking about Minho.

"He really will understand. You know he loves you, okay?"

Jisung nodded listlessly, so tired, not quite believing Chan's words. "Should I go talk to him now?"

Chan patted the younger's head, smoothing down his fluffy hair. "I think he's already gone to sleep. You should too, it's been a long day."

Jisung let Chan tuck him into bed, fluffing up his pillow and wrapping the blanket around his body. He patted Jisung's head over and over again, soothing him, before leaving. Jisung's eyelashes felt heavy and weighed his eyes down. He was mercifully so tired that he was not plagued by the events of the day and the realizations about himself.