you first {minsung} DISCONTINUED

eighty-five.

It took Jisung multiple minutes to work up the courage to even approach the house. 

His mom was someone he loved. Everyone loved their mother, right? So that made sense. 

Sure, he resented her for a lot of reasons, but he could never hate her. There was that inherent love that children had for their parents, and he was pretty sure it was still there for him, too. 

His learned mistrust for his mom hadn't yet weighed out the way he just wanted her to be proud of him. 

But he had to put that aside and really think clearly, because this wasn't really his mom, not anymore. She was pretty much just a shell now. 

The door made a jarringly loud creaking sound as Jisung hesitantly pushed it open, Minho clinging to his free hand. 

"That literally sounded like a sound effect from a horror movie- maybe we should just go," Minho whispered. 

Jisung rolled his eyes. "First of all, we're literally both obsessed with horror movies so shut the fuck up. And no, we're not leaving." 

Jisung glanced into the house, not seeing his mom but instead finding multiple beer bans scattered across the room. Hopefully they were old, because if his mom was drunk right now this could get a lot harder than he wanted it to be. 

Jisung pulled on Minho's hand, leading them both inside hesitantly. 

He didn't know why they were treating this like some fucking drug bust or something, tip-toeing their scared asses down the hallway. It's not like they had to be quiet or sneaky or whatever they were doing but yeah, they were both fucking terrified, so here they were. 

Once they got to the stairs, Jisung glanced around the corner into the kitchen. She wasn't there. He frowned. She hardly ever spent more time in her bedroom than she needed to, since it reminded her of Jisung's dad. She was normally in the living room or the kitchen. The lack of yelling or crashing in the house left an eery, sour taste in Jisung's mouth. 

"Come on, let's go," Minho said quietly, tugging lightly on Jisung's hand. Jisung glanced back over at Minho, nodding and following him up the stairs. 

They stopped in the bathroom first, grabbing anything that Minho had missed the first time and throwing it in one of two duffle bags they had found in a closet in the hallway. 

"Everything else is in your room, right?" Minho asked, eyes not quite focused on Jisung as he scanned the hallway behind the shorter boy, waiting for something bad to happen. And yet it continued to be oddly silent. 

"Mhm," Jisung responded, leaving the bathroom and walking carefully over to his bedroom. 

Why was it so calm? 

He set his hand on the doorknob of his bedroom, glancing behind him. Just Minho, looking at him with silent anticipation. No one else. 

Strange. 

Jisung swung the door open, eyes still focused on Minho- and he watched as Minho's face went from apprehension to surprise to anger. 

So he turned around. 

His mom was sitting on the floor in the middle of his bedroom, tears streaming down her face. 

When she saw Jisung, she jumped up, hurrying over to him but stopping a few feet in front of him as she watched Minho step forward warningly. 

"Jisung..." she said quietly. "You- you came back." 

"No he didn't," Minho said quickly. "We're just here to pick up his stuff."