The Three Worst Secrets

How Could You Not See?

He decided to call as soon as they got there and hope that the phone receiver would pick up everything he needed from its position in his back pocket.

All of the butlers and maids kept rushing about, distracting him. They seemed more mobile than usual.

There were other things he'd wanted to do to prepare, but the timing was horrible. He kept thinking of Minho's expression. Worrying if he'd done the right thing.

He'd been selfish for all of his life. Why the hell did he decide to stop now?

Minho was meant to be his.

Dammit.

He was supposed to be his.

But he really did love him. More than he'd ever loved Hyunjin. That had been misplaced. A sense of loving without the understanding. Minho had brought out the real feeling.

He loved him so much he would rather let him go than keep crushing him in his grip. Like some beautiful, rare bird he'd managed to catch mid-flight. Of course he'd rather keep it, run his fingers over its colorful feathers. Cage it.

But he loved him.

So, he had to let him go.

The clock chimed downstairs, startling him from his thoughts.

Oh no.

His time was up.

Seungmin stood in the foyer with his hands behind his back and the police all set to call in his back pocket. As long as he hit the button to dial at the right moment he might be fine.

Mr. Han and Mr. Lee were standing ten feet away from him, whispering to each other. Their wives had not come. Maybe they'd seen enough the first time around.

His father sat on the couch to his right, sipping on wine and looking between the two men and the boy.

After a minute or more, he tapped one of his rings along the glass, getting their attention.

"Did we decide on the punishment?"

Mr. Lee was already getting a little red in the face, swiping his hands over the outsides of his pants. "How long are you giving us?"

"Well... he usually goes to sleep around midnight, if we leave him an hour for him to lament and weep... how does, four sound?"

"Four hours?" Mr. Han ensured, swiping his tongue over his dry lips and stepping towards him. He really did look just like Jisung, except his eyes were not as nice, and his posture wasn't nearly as good.

"Of course! I owe you both new sons! If I had any to spare that were any good I would offer them. Sadly, all I have is this one. And he'll have to do."

"He'll do just fine." Mr. Han said. "I think I'll start. And I want to see that car of his again."

Seungmin whimpered with a wince. He couldn't stop it. At their answering laughter he clicked where he hoped the call button was on his phone and prayed it was being answered soon.

"I won't." he said a little too loudly.

His father brayed loudly and stood up. "What was that?"

"I will not suffer any more abuse." That time he enunciated each word clearly. "What did you want to do to me anyway? Choke me with more vegetables? Press me up against my car again and threaten me?"

"I'm sorry, he must've forgotten some medication-" his father started.

Mr. Han grinned. "No, I like a little fire. It'll make the taking so much sweeter."