just pretend.

19.

Jisung threw a glance at Minho, feeling the tension in the air, before turning around and wrapping his hand around Minho's wrist, dragging him into the room. Minho’s lips parted in surprise, his eyes wide with disbelief as he stared at Jisung, unable to find the words to respond. “Hannie”, he heard Minho mumble quietly, shaking his head as he threw the door shut behind them. He turned to face Chan, who sat on the edge of the bed, his posture hunched and defeated. “I want to hear everything. Every little detail, and I’m not leaving until I get what I want”, Jisung said, his voice sounding unfamiliar even to him – cold and ruthless, a reflection of the anger boiling within. He felt a chilling sense of power, realizing how much he had become like his father in this moment. Chan avoided Jisung's piercing gaze, dropping his head and fiddling with the hem of his black hoodie. The room felt laden with unspoken words, and Jisung caught a glimpse of Minho taking a cautious step towards Chan. Jisung glared at him, silently urging him to stop. Minho swallowed, freezing mid-movement under the weight of Jisung's glare and pressing his lips to a thin line. Chan inhaled shakily, shaking his head as if trying to dispel the gravity of the situation. “I know it’s not an excuse, but I swear I didn’t know what they were doing”, he mumbled, his voice small and barely audible, the vulnerability in his tone softening Jisung’s resolve just slightly. Jisung frowned, crossing his arms tightly in front of his chest, feeling like the floor was about to give in beneath his feet. “They didn’t tell you that you were helping them kidnap someone?”, Minho asked, his voice steady but laced with disbelief, just before Jisung could open his mouth to voice the same question. Chan shook his head repeatedly, desperation in his eyes. “No, I didn’t know it. My parents have a small grocery store, and I deliver to older people in the neighborhood. I had just finished delivering something and wanted to get into my car when they held a gun to my head and told me to drive to this warehouse. I know I fucked up, and I’m so incredibly sorry.” His voice cracked, tears spilling down his cheeks as he broke into full sobs. Jisung exchanged a glance with Minho, catching the flicker of pity in his eyes, which only fueled the fire in Jisung’s chest. “But why haven’t you gone to the police?”, Minho asked softly, his concern palpable and making Jisung’s blood boil. Did he really feel bad for Chan? “Get out”, Jisung said, taking a step towards Chan, his anger boiling over. Minho looked at him, confusion written across his face, but Jisung stood firm, his heart racing. “Get out, Minho.” Minho hesitated for a moment, scanning Jisung’s face for understanding before he nodded and left the room, closing the door behind him with a soft click. “Answer the question”, Jisung demanded, his voice sharper than he intended, watching Chan flinch at the harshness. “There’s no proof”, Chan said, his voice trembling. “They got out of my car, and I drove back home immediately. I didn’t know what to do; I was scared.” He cried quietly, inhaling sharply as he struggled to maintain his composure. Jisung’s mind raced. He didn’t know what he expected from this confrontation, but it certainly wasn’t this. All this time, he had thought that everyone involved in this was pure evil, not once considering that others could be dragged into this against their will. He wasn’t sure whether to believe Chan, there was something in the older one’s eyes that made him question everything he ever knew.

Minho flinched as he opened the door and walked out of the room, the weight of the confrontation still heavy on his shoulders. He watched Minho throw a quick glance at Chan, a bitter chuckle escaping his lips as he processed the chaos of emotions swirling in the air. Jisung made his way to the living room to fetch Jeongin, hoping to regroup with him and share the burden of what had just happened. “Hannie”, Minho called softly, but Jisung had already started to walk away. He felt Minho’s warm fingers wrap around his wrist, pulling him back gently. Jisung inhaled deeply, feeling the tension in the air, and stopped in his tracks. “What?”, Jisung asked harshly, his voice sharp as he locked eyes with Minho, a storm brewing behind his gaze. “What did he say? Did he confess?” Minho pressed, his voice laced with concern, hoping for clarity amid the confusion. Jisung nodded slightly, but the look he gave was anything but relieved. “He did, but he said he was forced, so what am I supposed to do?”, Jisung replied, his voice sounding cold and harsh, as if he were exhaling all the stored anger and frustration he had been holding in. The vulnerability of the situation pushed Minho to the edge of understanding. “But he knows where your brother was–”, Minho began, but he was quickly cut off by Jisung’s piercing glare. “Don’t, just let it be”, he snapped, pulling his wrist out of Minho’s grip and turning away, feeling the weight of memories he didn’t want to confront. He didn’t want to think about where or how his brother was murdered. All he wanted was to let go of the torment once and for all so he could stop feeling so much pain all the time. “Let’s go”, he said, his voice quiet, resigned, as he found Hyunjin and Jeongin on the couch. Hyunjin looked up at him with swollen eyes, the evidence of sleepless nights and unsorted worries etched on his face. “Did you talk?”, Hyunjin asked, his voice thick with hope and dread. Jisung nodded, feeling a mix of sympathy and frustration as he walked around the couch and sat next to him. “He said he was forced to do it. I think you should talk to him”, Jisung forced himself to say, placing his palm on Hyunjin’s thigh in a gesture of comfort. “He’s been hiding from me. I don’t know what to think or do”, Hyunjin replied quietly, shaking his head as if trying to shake off the uncertainty that clung to him. They all heard the door slam shut loudly in the hallway, the sound reverberating through the tense atmosphere. Jisung and Hyunjin exchanged glances, their expressions mirroring the anxiety that gripped them. “Minho?”, Jeongin called, his voice echoing in the silence, but there was no immediate answer. Just as Jisung began to worry, Minho showed up in the doorway, his brow furrowed with concern. “What is it?”, Hyunjin asked, slowly rising from the couch. “I..”, Minho started, glancing back into the hallway as if expecting someone to appear. “Chan just left with a sports bag. He said everyone is better off without him.” Jisung watched Minho avoid their gazes, his fingers nervously picking at the skin on his fingernail, a telltale sign of his anxiety. Without a moment’s hesitation, Hyunjin walked past Minho and rushed out the door, followed closely by Jeongin, both of them driven by concern for Chan. “He’s such a fucking coward”, Jisung mumbled in disbelief, squeezing himself through the door frame, inhaling Minho’s sweet scent as he passed. It was intoxicating, stirring emotions he wasn’t ready to confront – not yet, not in this chaos. His mind raced, torn between his feelings for Minho and the haunting situation with Felix that he just didn’t want to end. The chaos around him felt overwhelming, and he couldn’t help but wonder how it would all resolve – if it ever would.