The Mess We've Made | Minsung

chapter eight

Going live in 3...

2...

1..

I ran a hand through my hair as I waited for my subscribers to start rolling in when my livestream started, sitting forward in the computer chair I'd bought for one of the guest bedrooms that's now become my studio.

When the comments of confusion and hysteria started rolling in, I read a few of them before beginning my spiel, "Okay, some of you are really confused and I get that. Some of you have no idea who I am, that's cool too. What's up?"

I looked at my monitor and read out one of the comments aloud, "Why is Han Jisung going live on this account? What is going on? Is this the most legendary face reveal like, ever?"

I thought about how to articulate what I wanted to say, "I never did a face reveal for a reason because I didn't want my account to be defined by who's running it but quite a few of you figured out it was me after that interview I did with GX, so I'm here to set the record straight like I said I would. Ask me anything. Any money made from this stream is going to the Cold Case Foundation."

I began reading the comments, then picking out a question and reading it aloud, "I've tried asking you this before in your comments but you never answer. Any other question I've asked has gotten a good response but I've never gotten anything back on this one. What inspired you to make this account?"

I can't keep this secret anymore.

"I apologize for ignoring your question, bugeater347, I just didn't want to make this account about me as opposed to about what we're really all here for - true crime," I paused, "Do you guys know about the case of the Han family? I know a few of you have requested I talk about it but admittedly I've ignored them."

I read a few comments before sitting back in my chair, "The comments are split fifty-fifty. For those of you who don't know, I'll tell you about it. Twenty years ago in Incheon, a family of six were held hostage and shot execution-style in their living room. There was only one survivor and the kid hid in his hamper under a pile of clothes meanwhile his dad insisted to the two shooters that he was at a sleepover until they stopped looking. I'm the kid, by the way. My name is Jisung Han and for those of you who do recognize the name, I go by just Han. It happened when I was eight and I'm now twenty-eight. That's really what inspired this account. I've kept the secret for seventeen years and after having only told a few people since, at this point I'm ready to just say this shit because I am so tired of pretending like I'm always fine when I'm really not because it's always in the back of my mind."

As comments rolled in with major concern, I rolled my eyes, "Can we not do the condolences? I'm not trying to throw a pity party here and if any of you are screen-recording this or sharing the link, I'm sorry but you suck. If I don't upload a video ever again it's because my publicist killed me for saying this without telling her."

I read one of the comments on my larger monitor aloud, "Glossing over what you just admitted to spare you; long-time fan here. You probably remember me, we've chatted a few times in your comment section and in the Discord. I just have one question. Is Minho a real person?"

I burst into laughter, "I know exactly who the fuck you are. Hold on, this one's for you. I feel like I've betrayed some of my longtime fans here by hiding who I am for so long so this is my gift to you."

I grabbed my phone off the desk and texted Minho directly to come to the room. He read the message almost immediately and I smiled contently at the sound of footsteps coming down the hall. He opened the door and said dramatically, "I've been summoned."