Exiting the infirmary, he's flanked by Jisung and Minho immediately. Their questions are silent — for they had promised not to talk, after all, — but their worries are evident, and they peck at the remainder of the blond's bleeding heart as he leads them out of the ward, towards his office.
">"You okay?" Jisung asks as the door finally shuts behind them, some five minutes later.
">"Fine." Felix sinks into his chair. "Is there anything else you wanted to see?"
Minho shakes his head. He's standing by the door, his face grim.
">Jisung crosses the room to engulf Felix in a soft hug. "Stop blaming yourself for what's happening to those kids, Lixie. It's not your fault."
">"I work there. It's my fault." He tonelessly replies.
">"It would be your fault if you encouraged their mistreatment. You're doing your best, given the circumstances."
">"Don't." Felix waves the words away. "Just don't. I need some time alone, please."
They nod, patting the folder on his desk as a reminder, before leaving together, Minho's hand settling on Jisung's hip protectively.
">"Lix." The cat-like man calls out, his hand on the door.
Felix looks up.
">"When you read that folder." Minho paused. "You're going to want some space. A lot of it. We understand that. Just remember, we're always here for you. Anytime."
It's the nicest thing Felix had ever heard him say. But the man isn't finished.
">"I'll come by when you want to talk." The door shuts behind him with a finality, and the blond doesn't even question how Minho would know — of course he'd know.
The man knew everything.
Taking a few deep breaths, Felix moves the Kim Seungmin problem to the back of his mind and picks up the heavy folder that had been sitting on his desk since Jisung dropped it there that morning.
Staring at it, he wondered what it could contain — it had to be something bad, if Minho thought he would need space after it, right?
Oh well, he thought. He had already called off his evening show. Whatever he was about to read, at least he would have Hyunjin to talk to in the evening. At least he could forget about today's horrors and sink into the blissful acceptance at their small studio, and watch the older man sketch picture after picture, and tell him about colors, and animals, and long lost cities.
At least he would have that.
">"Poor kid." Jisung whispers as the door closes on the blond boy.
">Beside him, Minho nods, sighing. "He'll come around if he's strong enough, Ji."
">"You're right." Jisung nods, and they walk down the hall, towards the living quarters. As they round the corners, he's still in thought, mind stuck on the contents of the folder he had so lightly dropped on his friend's desk. "I'm just sorry for him, I guess. He's already obviously upset by his workplace, and now on top of that there's this, too? I can't imagine being in his shoes."
">"You'll never have to be." Minho reassures him, and they slip into Jisung's private apartment.
">"Breakfast?" He asks the elder, and Minho shakes his head, heading towards the laptop they have set up in the living room.
">"I'm gonna check on Hwang's kid." He mutters, and Jisung shrugs, the sweet-faced boy coming to mind. He hopes that nothing's happened to the poor child — he was far too young and adorable to be snatched from his home by the special forces. And knowing where the 'snatched' kids end up, Jisung shudders. Felix would definitely fall apart if he saw Jeongin lined up in the white pajamas with the other kids.
">"Okay. I have a client in less than an hour, so I'll get ready for that." He disappears down the hall into his bedroom, his soulmate's cold eyes burning holes into his back.
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Jeongin's mother was nervous that morning. The boy had noticed it ever since he was dropped off — she kept throwing glances at him and biting her lip. They were unconscious actions, as she didn't actually feel any nervousness, not after her pills, but that didn't stop her from still worrying just a little.
">She had questioned him about "appa's friend" from the moment he had come home. She would ask, in that removed and out-of-touch voice of hers, if appa's friend was pretty, or nice, or if appa acted any different around them.
Sitting in Jeongin's backpack was a type of betrayal. His school project was carefully tucked away between big folders and notebooks, so his mother wouldn't see it. He did not want her to know.
The big house seemed sad, and lonely when it was just the two of them. There was never anything to do, and his mother wasn't the type to play with him. He could have anything he wanted at her house, but it had never felt like home. Instead, he longed for his father's shabby apartment that reeked of the neighbors' cigarettes and burnt dinner.
Maybe he was ungrateful, like his mother often said, but he couldn't find himself to care — what was wrong with enjoying someone's love and attention when he lacked any from her?
">"Jeongin!" There she went again, her voice right outside his bedroom door. "Hurry up! We're going to be late!"
They weren't, but she liked getting to school early and dropping him off before she went on her nth date with some rich upperclassman from the City. Her obsession, even when Hyunjin still lived with them, was to marry into the higher ranks of society. Unfortunately for her, the City folks were picky, and even though she always scored a date, people rarely came back for seconds.
It wasn't City etiquette.
Jeongin supposed he was a little too young to know these things, and maybe he was, but that had never stopped him from asking questions and guessing. While he didn't know what a 'date' was exactly, he knew his mom went on them because even in a society like theirs, people chattered and gossip spread. He was too smart not to listen in.
Grabbing his backpack, he ran to the door, getting in the backseat of his mother's small car. It was new, and sleek, and the engine was near silent.
She didn't bother checking if he was buckled in as she backed out of her picture-perfect driveway, and as they sped down the street, Jeongin started counting the trees they passed by. The empty branched, never blooming stumps that still stood there, almost a decoration.
There were less and less each day.
YOU ARE READING
city of stars
Fanfiction~hyunlix~ There's something almost hypnotic about his voice - it's so deep, dark- but at the same time, there's a softness to it, almost a gentle caress to the words. There's nothing rough about the way he sings, rather, it's soft and reassuring - r...
