just pretend.

31.

Minho spent the entire day buried in documents, meticulously going over each page with Seungmin. They combed through everything again and again, mentally bracing themselves for the upcoming hearing. By the time he finally made it home, his head was pounding, an ache that pulsed with exhaustion. He barely registered falling onto the couch, drifting into a restless sleep. It wasn’t until his phone’s sharp ring jolted him awake around five in the evening that he realized he had dozed off. “Hello?” he mumbled, rubbing the sleep from his eyes as he tried to steady his voice. “Minho, you need to come here right now. Someone broke into the house and destroyed everything.” His aunt’s voice was high-pitched and fractured by sobs, the words tumbling out in panicked breaths. Instantly alert, he bolted upright, already heading for the door, his heart pounding with dread. Every ounce of exhaustion drained from his body, replaced by a rush of pure adrenaline. His mind raced as he quickly pieced together his next steps. Jisung was at work and wouldn’t be home until late; he had mentioned a meeting after his shift and had told Minho not to wait for dinner. But right now, Minho’s stomach churned with nausea, any thought of food replaced by anxiety as his aunt’s words echoed in his head. “Alright, I’m on my way”, he replied, slipping his shoes on in a rush. “Are you at the house right now?”, he asked, hearing the soft clicking noises in the background. “Yes, I’m here, trying to clean up. I don’t know where to start”, she answered, her voice trembling. “Don’t touch anything”, he nearly shouted, catching himself and softening his tone. “You’re going to destroy evidence. Just leave everything as it is and call the police. I’ll be there in half an hour, alright?” His aunt hummed an unsteady response, and he hung up, muttering under his breath as he grabbed his keys. He cursed the distance he had to run to reach his car parked down the street, glancing over his shoulder, half-expecting Wooyoung to emerge from the shadows. By the time he reached the car, his breathing was heavy, and sweat beaded along his temples. “Damn it”, he whispered, fumbling to push the key into the ignition. His hands were slick with sweat, his fingers trembling as he gripped the wheel. He forced himself to focus, inhaling deeply to steady his nerves before he wiped the sweat from his forehead with his sleeve. His mind raced as he pulled out of his parking spot, carefully yet urgently navigating the streets until he hit the highway, letting himself pick up speed while keeping a steady hand. He tried calling Jisung, his hand tightening around his phone in a grip so tense his knuckles went white. The call went straight to voicemail, a pang of frustration hitting him. “Damn it”, he whispered again, this time softer, feeling the weight of worry pressing on his chest. Swallowing, he opened the chat and quickly recorded a voice message, explaining the situation in a hushed, hurried tone before tossing his phone onto the passenger seat. Pushing the car harder down the highway, he kept his focus sharp on the road, willing his hands to stay steady on the wheel. His heart raced as he thought about the house, about his aunt alone with shattered belongings and whatever else awaited him there. Minutes seemed to stretch endlessly, every mile bringing a fresh wave of tension until, finally, he reached his old home, pulling up to the curb, breathless, and prepared for the worst.

“Minho”, his aunt cried, interrupting her conversation with a police officer. He sprinted towards them, letting her wrap both arms around him. “I just told the officers that I wanted to get some of my cleaning utensils as I noticed the broken windows. All of the windows are broken”, she cried quietly, letting go of him. “Hi, I’m the owner of the house”, he choked out, introducing himself to the officers, trying to stay calm as he looked over the facade, seeing all the broken windows. He swallowed, fighting tears and rage. “Do you know anyone who could have done it?”, one of the officers asked. A young guy, probably a little bit older than Minho himself. “I already told you, it was the Han’s”, his aunt said harshly and Minho held her back, not wanting her to cause a scene. “I also don’t think anyone other than the Han’s, or more likely someone they assigned, would do something like this”, Minho answered, trying to sound as calm as possible. The officer nodded, scribbling something onto a notebook. “Those are some serious accusations. Do you have any evidence?”, the other officer, older than the first one, with an already fading hairline and a small beard on his upper lip, asked and Minho shook his head, glaring at him. “Isn’t that what you’re here for? To gather evidence?”, his voice sounded hoarse and he had to take a deep breath. “We’ll send a forensics team and check the property in case the intruder is still here”, the younger officer said and Minho nodded, watching them turn on their flashlights and slowly walking up the stairs. The beautiful stained glass in the door was shattered, and the officer reached through, opening the door from the inside. Minho turned to his aunt, earning a scorching glare from her. “What in god's name happened to your face?”, she asked, placed her palm on his cheek and frowned at him. Her features softened as he huffed out a defeated laugh and shook his head. “Hannie’s parents sent someone after me”, he muttered, not able to bear the look in her eyes. “My god, that family is full of evil people”, she let go of his heated cheek, making him shake his head again. “Not Hannie”, he answered defensively, making her smile faintly. “You always had a thing for that boy. I still remember all the times he showed up with flowers or books for you. And you always had that smile on your lips and that sparkle in your eyes. That’s the smile and look you give to your first or last love, sweetie”, she said and squeezed his arm, flustering the hell out of him. He felt his cheeks heat up even more and giggled embarrassed. “Is he still good to you?”, his aunt asked and he gave her a fond smile, nodding in response. He watched the officers walk around the house, coming back not much later. They turned off their flashlights, shaking their heads. “No one in and around the building”, the younger one said, took Minho’s details, informing him that the forensics team would arrive in an hour.