What's left of you | Minsung ✔️

5. The Crackling Air

*2780 words

5.

Felix
Jisungaaahhh~
Good news!!
The fellow student I mentioned
He's gonna take us to the concert!!

Sungie
You have no idea how happy I am right now
Thank you, Lix
Seriously
I love you

Felix
Aw, love you too
How's camp?

Sungie
Hell

They texted back and forth, with Jisung whining about being practically in jail, and the crybaby of a cabinmate he's forced to share space with. At least the food was decent. Felix gushed about how much loved his job at The Clubhouse, he was seriously considering making it permanent. Everyone loved him, but that was to be expected.

Jisung already started dreaming about the day he would finally experience his idols- live and in color. Concerts always had that special atmosphere; the air tingled with electricity, hyping up the audience, colors seemed more vibrant, and the music synced in with everyone's heartbeat.

Lazily, Jisung flipped through the pages of the folder, when he abruptly stopped. "The hell am I doing? I don't read."

He chucked the folder down on the floor and stretched out in his bed. The cabin door burst open, Jisung flinched. He didn't bother looking up, but when he heard strained wheezing and sniffling, he sat up to peek through the bookshelves.

On the other bed sat Minho, face buried in his hands, trying to catch his breath. His shoulders moved in a labored way. Carefully, Jisung stepped closer.

"What's wrong with you?" Jisung asked quietly.

Minho looked up, his eyes were red and wet. "You know where we're going soon?"

"You mean... the parkour?"

The relevant page stated that today the camp was going to go on an excursion to a parkour park, to strengthen teamwork and earn credits. Jisung looked forward to it because he had never been to one.

Minho took a deep breath, his hands were shaking. "I'm afraid of heights. I can't just go climb up a tree without having a panic attack."

"If it's so severe, why don't you tell the staff about it?"

"What do you think I've been trying to accomplish since yesterday?" Minho hissed, his eyebrows furrowed and his eyes turned into sharp arrows.

Jisung raised his hands in defense, taking a step back. Minho's shoulders slumped, he ruffled his hair and mumbled a small "sorry".

"Listen, if it helps we can do that parkour-teamwork-crap together." Jisung attempted an encouraging smile but it came out a little funny.

Unbeknownst to Jisung, something happened with Minho: It went quiet in his head.

｡⋆｡˚ ʚɞ ˚｡⋆｡

Nothing reminded of yesterday's rain anymore. Early in the morning the air felt fresh and moist, but by around 9 o'clock the sun's heat was on full blast, heating up the ground and drying the air.

Jisung hopped on the bus and flopped down on the seat by the window, Minho sat down beside him. Soon the bus was packed and loud chatter filled the confined space. The group that had started a campfire on the first day was particularly noisy. Jisung turned around to look back over his seat. There, in the far back, he found the source: A rather short but very buff dude with curly hair spat aggressive verses, some of them even rhymed, making the boy next to him hold his belly with laughter.