THE8 | Junhao | *EDITING*

TWO

| CHAPTER TWO |

Minghao sits on his couch, zoned out.

His fingers were playing loosely with the end of his shirt, a small straggle of string falling from the material, pinched between his fingers as he twirls.

His elbow was on the arm of the couch, head resting on the back of his fist, gaze zoned ahead tiredly, exhaustedly.

He jolts when he hears a loud ring, heart jumping up and down in relief when he comes to terms with the fact that it was a just his phone.

It was charging across the room. So, not without a sigh, Minghao pushes himself up off the couch, walking towards where his phone lied.

He picks it up, looking at the caller id.

| UNKNOWN CALLER |

He furrows his brows, tilting his head slightly.

It could be scammer out for money- Was his first thought, his second thought being the fact that he didn't have much to begin with.

Deciding to listen to his instincts, he switches off his phone, shaking his head as he sets it back down to rest on the counter.

He shouldn't answer. He couldn't take the risk.

He goes to sit back down, stopping when the same ringing echos through the air again.

He takes a moment before turning around, walking slowly back.

He looks down.

| UNKNOWN CALLER |

His suspicions were beginning to rise.

It could be the school. It could be San's family threatening to sue for money Minghao didn't have. It could be a scammer for fucks sake.

It could be...

Minghao halts his thoughts, shutting his eyes to block them out.

His hand hovers over the phone until the call ends, his home screen showing up.

He frowns at the photo, eyes boring holes into his father's.

He felt his chest bubble at the look in his father's eyes- all squinted and happy as he laughed, holding a baby Minghao as he looked at a woman.

He didn't really remember his mother.

His father told him she died when he was very young. And as expected, he trusted his dad, attending the funeral, unbeknownst to the way his life would go downhill from there on out.

So here he stood, staring at his phone screen like a weirdo, letting out a breath when the phone screen turns dark, the picture fading.

But he doesn't have time to breathe before the phone is lighting up again, that same caller id popping up on the screen again.

Minghao scrunches his brows, betraying himself when he picks up the phone.

He hesitates of course, but eventually slides his thumb across the screen. he clears his throat, slowly bringing the phone up to his ear, the screen cold against his cheek.

"Hello?"

"Ah! MingMing, you answered!"

Minghao stills.

He expected this, but he guesses he actually wasn't ready for a conversation with this specific person, based on the way his heart beat irregularly.

"Ming?"

"Dad?" Minghao closes his eyes, lips pressed together, "Why isn't your name showing up? Where's your phone?"

"Oh," His father chuckles, "I must've misplaced it, I'm using a payphone." Minghao hears a quarter slip down a hatch.

He nods slowly, "Okay."

"Happy birthday, MingMing." His father sounds happy, completely unbeknownst to the way Minghao's emotion was the exact opposite, "I'm sorry it'll be a bit late, but I'll drop off your present when-"

"When are you coming home?"

Minghao knows it's rude to cute someone off while they're speaking, but now, he couldn't find it in himself to care one bit.

There's silence on the other end of the line, and Minghao sighs, running a hand though his hair.

"Dad," Minghao whines, holding a hand over his eyes with another sigh, "You said you'd be home eight days ago."

There's a pause before his father speaks.

"I know, and I'm sorry, MingMing." Minghao tries not to go insane at the nickname.

He's always hated it.

"I promise I'll be home soon. I've just been caught up in work... We've been busy traveling between towns, you know this-"

"I don't know anything, Dad." Minghao winces at his own words, voice broken, "I don't even know what work you're doing! All I know is that you're gone and I'm stuck here surviving on the few bucks you left behind."

Minghao hears his father sigh, "I'm so sorry MingMing-"

"Stop calling me that." He can't take it anymore.

His father lets out a breath, "I'm sorry, I really am."

"Just forget it." Minghao shakes his head, cheeks numb to the tears that roll down his face, "Don't bother coming back."

Minghao grits his teeth, eyes glossy.

"You're dead to me."

He ends the call after that, and the line goes dead, leaving Minghao a mess in his own puddle of tears.