Hatred - 2Min/Minmin

19

MINHO:

"It's not really his fault, dude." said Hyunjin.

As a part of Minho's mourning process, they were sharing a joint, and a Pepsi bottle topped with Old Monk on the roof of the hostel.

Jisung wasn't receiving his calls, wasn't attending classes and was crying his heart out, letting the entire world know what a nice fucking guy Minho was.

"Tell me something I don't know, asshole."

Minho had spent the last five days in a drunken haze, dialling Jisung's number over and over again, waiting on the pavement facing his first floor hostel window, sending long texts and numerous e-mail and begging for another chance.

He felt like shit for letting Jisung down. He even toyed with the idea of slitting his wrist to prove a point but the mess that would follow deterred him.

But I called him ugly, how is that leading him on, Minho had argued.
He turned you on, how can I trust you any longer, Jisung had cried.

Hyunjin unscrewed the cap of another bottle of Old Monk and poured in into the empty Pepsi bottle.

"I'm in love with Kim Seungmin. He's my dream guy." said Hyunjin.

"He fucked my happiness, dude. Jisung's never going to forgive me for this. How the fuck am I any different from my fuck-all father, fucking shit."

"You're drunk."

"I'm drunk? You arr the fucking one who just said you fucking love that bastard! "

"Mind your language there, minho. I'm married to him in my head." said Hyunjin.

"Is thay why you're watching thay?" asked Minho, pointing at the Bookworm Bitches—Megan goes to School video playing on his laptop.

"Fine. Let me prove it to you, " saaid Hyunjin and clicked on porn folder which was labelled important documents and paraded his painstakingly pricired collection, now categorized and cross+ referencces.

He pressed the ALT key and his finger lingered over The DELETE key. He asked, "Should I?" And before Minho could answer, he pressed the key, a bar appeared and slowly, hundreds of pixelated naked bodies disappeared "see? Not even a second thought. Seungmin is hot. All my fantasies are going to revolve around him now."

Minho didn't see the point of arguing. They drank and smoked silently, Minho blissfully unaware of the approaching mid-semester examinations. It was the time when hostels remained abuzz with activity till early morning, study groups were formed and the dynamics of friendships changed.

They ran out of alcohol and lay on the rooftop, staring at the sky as if there were stars visible to appreciate. Minho's phone had run out of battery from the incessant calling.

"Should I get his name tattoed? Do you think that would work?" Asked Minho, once he felt a little less hammered.

"Get it in Chinese so that you can fool your next lover. Even the Chinese don't understand their script."

"I'm not breaking up," Said Minho.

"Have you decided your kids names yet?"

"When the right time comes then why not," Answered Minho, the ridiculousness of the question and the answer ringing in his ears.

"You're stupid as hell, man. You have got to be kidding me if you think you and jisung are meant for life. I don't think you're even sad. You're just acting sad!"

"Why would you say that?" Asked Minho.

"For one, you're twenty and there are ten more years for you to think from your dick. And secondly, how's it love? Love's not waiting for couple of hours outside a parlour reading gossip magazines while he's getting rid of his fur. Love's when you can say fuck off, I'm not coming, and I don't care you're a hairy mess for I like your hairy mess."