Stay ~ A Stray Kids Fanfic

Felix

Felix's POV
That Night

"My boy, you must eat if you want to do well in school," my mother scolds before pushing the bowl of soup closer to Hyunjin.

I palm my eyes. "Mom, he's not 5." I get my response with the whack of a newspaper to my head. "What?"

"You shut your mouth. You have no sympathy for those who have a harder life than you," she says. The newspaper stays pointed at me in an ongoing threat. I retreat back and to my own soup. It was weird. From the head of the table, I'd usually spot dad where Hyunjin sits now. Usually finishing his paperwork while the food gets left out to chill.

I haven't seen him since the first day of school. He had gone to the states. At least that's what mom said.

"Did you finish Anatomy today?" Hyunjin asks, slowly bringing the spoonful of soup to his lips. My mother beams from beside him.

"Uh, yeah. I can help you with it when we're done." It's been odd having him here for 4 days straight. I wasn't complaining. I suppose I just never had a brother like him to live with.

I look over to Sam trying to multitask his homework. Occasionally, he'd sip from his banana milk before jotting down the rest of the equation. If anything, he was a spitting image of my father. Only he didn't let mom's cooking go to waste. Just like the rest of our family.

When we finish, Hyunjin and I excuse ourselves to go upstairs. My mom would ask how he's doing in English, along with a few other questions, before dismissing me back up to my room. I felt bad seeing him so confused when the second language was brought up, but I assured him she meant no harm in her words.

"It feels like code sometimes," he'd say. "I wish I knew English that well."

"I can teach you a little. At least enough to get by."

He smiled widely at my offer. "I'd like that."

Now we're lying on the floor with the tv casting some soap opera onto our dull faces. Anatomy was as draining as finding a female actress. I notice the thought and bring it up. "What do you think of her?"

His dragon eyes don't remove from the worksheet. Instead, he just smiles from within his little cradle he had made with his arm. "She's beautiful," is all he says, muffling it into his sleeve to hide his pink cheeks.

I only laugh and poke my pencil at his ribs. "Someone's in love. I was wondering if you would get over that girl we saw at the track."

"Eh," he shrugs, "she's not important anymore."

My eyes widen at this. "So soon? Good for you, man."

When the silence began bidding me to say something more, my phone rang on cue. Hyunjin watches as I hold the phone to my ear with the name "Chris," on it.

"What's up, man?" I say in English. Hyunjin catches the greeting and listens in, probably testing himself on the incoming translations. But my smile falls when I hear Chris breathing heavily from the other end. "Chris?"

"Aw man, Changbin and I messed up big time, Felix," he says, panting and out of breath. From the sound of footsteps and shouting, it seemed like they were running. Specifically from someone.

I put him on speaker and switch to Korean. "Where are you?"

The panting doesn't seize and neither does the running. Hyunjin and I exchange puzzled glances. "We were just spray painting was all," he gasps, a brief moment of static sounding as he catches his breath. I hear Changbin say something in the background, but it's hard to make out. "Nah, we'll be good here."

I'm baffled beyond words. "You were vandalizing?" My tone is ripe with disbelief.

Chan just scoffs on the other end. "They're abandoned trains. Plus, it's art. Hyunjin would get it."

"That's still illegal, President," Hyunjin speaks up, a small grin playing on his lips. A sigh of relief is heard from Chan.

"Oh that's right. I forgot you two live together now." When no one said anything, he goes on. "You think you two could help us out? At least find us? I'm kinda too scared to leave this hiding spot-"

"Yeah, sure, gosh," I laugh, hearing Hyunjin do the same. "Where are you anyways?"

~

"Y'know, when they said the east side of Seoul, I didn't expect it to be around here." Hyunjin was right: this place was an entire railroad station that's no longer used. My guess would've been due to the subway uprising. As we crossing a clearing, I make sure that there are no cop cars around us. The moon is bright tonight and the city smiles brightly from behind us. I usher him forward.

Over a strip of granite gravel, we stalk around a rustic boxcar. Our footsteps are meticulous and planned to make as little noise as possible.

When the station platform came into view, I blew a sigh of relief. "They said they were around here," I say. We check around the building before entering through a shattered, glass door. It was completely destroyed from however many natural disasters had struck it. Plus the help of time to rust away all the cars and even ticket stands. Marquees of what used to be arrive and depart times hang loosely over a ticket stand.

Its quiet. The sound of glass cracks beneath our every step. Pulling out my phone, I switch on the flashlight. "Chris?" I whisper as loud as I could without shouting. Suddenly, a head pops up from behind a baggage claim office. It's Changbin. "Jesus, you scared me-"

"What took you guys so long?" He asks, Hyunjin joining us just as Chris also makes an appearance. He's no longer in his uniform and, instead, dressed in jeans, converse, and a simple, blue sweatshirt. His hair is messy, but it brings a smile to my face. He looks so comfortable and relieved.

I round the corner as I say, "I had to borrow my mom's car. It took a bit of convincing." The second I'm reunited with Chris, his throws his arms around me. The embrace is swaddled in rich cologne dampened with sweat and musk. "I'm so glad you're here," he sighs into my hair. A jolt of shivers creep up my back and morph into heat in my cheeks.

"We didn't see anyone outside," Hyunjin pipes up. His gaze lowers to his feet, his hands stuffed into the pockets of the jacket I let him borrow. "What do we do now?"

We all exchange unsure glances. Then, it dawned on me that it was indeed a school night and we shouldn't be out too late to begin with. "I'll drive you two home. It's getting late anyways." Everyone nods their heads in agreement

Chris, on the other hand, settles with looping an arm around my shoulders before leading us out. He must've drank something while messing around with Changbin. I couldn't smell any alcohol, but then again, his cologne took care of any trace of rum.

We skitter across the many tracks and yards of gravel before reaching the car parked in the grass behind a graffitied boxcar. When we all got in and began buckling up—Chris sitting in the front beside me—I notice the artwork sprayed over the rustic train.

I veer the gear into drive just as I catch the word expression, "B Me," etched on the train. It is left behind us, the blues, reds, and many other colors inking in my mind as everyone in the car peacefully dozes off.