THE8 | Junhao

THIRTY

| CHAPTER THIRTY |

Minghao sits on the hardwood step in his apartment, staring down at the soft brown color. He was deep in thought, yet he wasn't, focused on his fingers tracing the engraved stripes in the floor, fingertips painting them.

He was off today, Seungkwan told him not to come. He insisted that he was fine and would be able to stay, but Seungkwan said the way he looked the other day would say otherwise.

"Go home, get some rest. Please." Seungkwan had told him, ushering him out of the building. He had even walked him to his motorcycle, eventually asking him if he'd be okay on that thing, if he wanted him to take him home in a car inside.

Minghao told him he was fine, just as he always said, and then he got on his motorcycle and left for his apartment, not saying goodbye to anyone else.

He was alone now, and he found it worse.

The silence was eating him up, he hated it. He'd much rather be at the station, eating sandwiches in his cubby and hearing Dino's dumb jokes as he'd laugh so hard he'd choke on his food. 

Minghao finds himself smiling at the thought.

His doorbell rings, and it takes him a moment to comprehend it. He wonders if he dreamt up the sound, only for reality to tell him otherwise as another ring echos through the apartment.

Minghao stands up, walking towards the door.

He leans forward, squinting his eye to look through the peephole.

He raises his brows in somewhat surprise, before stepping back. His fingers pinch the lock, and he's twisting it, opening the front door before he can even realize what he's doing.

Jun smiles at him, clearing his throat.

Minghao looks at him, tilting his head in curiosity. His arm rests on the doorknob, and his eyes rest on Jun, "How did you know where I lived?" Is the first thing he asks, and he wants to punch himself in the face for being so awkward.

Jun clears his throat, scratching the back of his head, and that's when Minghao notices the plastic grocery bag in his hand, "I, uh— I kinda looked at your résumé," Jun clicks his tongue, "Sorry if that's weird. I just wanted to make sure you were okay."

Minghao shrugs, "I'm fine."

"You say that a lot." Jun tells him, "Is it the truth?"

Minghao pauses for a moment, before folding his lips together, stepping aside. He cocks his head, "Do you wanna come in?"

Jun nods, "Okay."

They're soon both inside, and after a bit of an awkward conversation, the two of them are sat where Minghao was just before. Instead this time, he wasn't alone.

There's a short silence, and Minghao's the first one to break it, "Why'd you come here?" He asks, turning his head with pursed lips.

"To check on you," Jun says, "I wanted to see if you were okay." He repeats, shrugging, "You've seemed kinda down ever since..."

Minghao cracks a smile, lowering his head with a shake. He takes a breath, sighing, "Everyone keeps telling me it's not my fault.... Everyone keeps saying they weren't prepared, that they weren't ready." Minghao face was blank, "It's because of me."

"Don't do that to yourself." Jun shakes his head, "We really weren't ready—"

"Because I rushed you." Minghao chuckles, "I never should've suggested for the station to dig into old cases," He shakes his head, "I was being a menace. We should've just stayed focused on the recent ones..."

"No," Jun shakes his head, leaning close, "You were so thoughtful... so correct to bring up the old cases again. The people need justice, their families need answers," Jun sighs, "We have people missing, we have unsolved murders...."

"People missing?" Minghao stares at the floor.

Jun nods, "Yeah. And hey, I remember this one case with a man that got killed in an apartment complex a while back... his son went missing a couple days after," Jun shakes his head, astonished, "It was the weirdest thing. He just... disappeared. We never found him."

Minghao tries to stay calm, looking down.

"What was his name?"

Jun furrows his brows at that, turning his head to think. He scratches his chin, "I'm not sure. I'd have to pull it up, but I at least know he was Chinese. God, I've looked at that case so long I've memorized everything." He frowns, "Everything but his name, it seems like."

Minghao cracks a soft smile, sighing.

"What?" Jun asks.

"Just," Minghao clicks his tongue, "Sometimes being an officer sucks."

Jun laughs, nodding, "Every day hurts." Minghao looks over at that, "The feeling of uselessness... The guilt of not finding answers for some cases... It eats you up. It hurts."

Minghao nods, taking a trembled breath, "Why?" He asks, folding his lips together with a shaky sigh, "Why are people so evil? What do they get out of doing such bad things?"

Jun frowns, sighing himself.

There's a shift in the air, and Minghao would call it comfortable. He felt content, and his chest didn't feel as tight. It was as if talking to Jun made all his problems go away. He felt safe, almost happy that he got things he wanted... things he needed to say, off his chest.

Minghao then turns his head when he hears a bag rustle.

He watches Jun pull out two bottles of soju from the bag, giving Minghao a look before passing one to him. Minghao just stares at the alcohol, sighing deeply at the sight.

"You don't have to if you don't want to." Jun says, popping open the cap on his own. Minghao looks at him. "I know it's not the best way to cope, but drinking helps me sometimes." He takes a gulp, hissing at the taste, "It buzzes the feelings away."

Minghao nods.

Jun smacks his lips, turning to dig in the back once more. Minghao watches in amusement how the boy pulls out two more items, showcasing them with a shrug.

"I have ice cream too."

Minghao laughs.