just pretend.

42.

Minho let himself fall back onto the couch, feeling the crushing weight of everyone's stares. The silence suffocated him, each second ticking by only intensifying the shame pressing down on his chest. Seungmin sat beside him, motionless, but Minho could feel the tension radiating from him as well. His heart pounded, fast and erratic, like it was trying to escape the mess he had created. He knew he had made a monumental mistake, but never in his worst nightmares did he think Jisung would find out within an hour of stepping back through the door. “That went well”, Seungmin mumbled beside him, the bitterness in his tone cutting through the heavy silence. Minho let out a long, defeated breath, his body collapsing into Seungmin's side. He felt exhausted – no, more than that. He felt utterly drained, humiliated, and broken in a way that made him want to disappear. Seungmin shifted slightly, wrapping his arm around Minho’s waist in an offer of comfort. “I can go talk to him if you want”, Seungmin muttered, his voice softer now, filled with regret. But Minho shook his head slowly, tears already welling up and blurring his vision. He clutched at Seungmin's shirt, his fingers gripping the fabric as if it were the only thing keeping him from falling apart entirely. The pressure of everything – the secrets, the guilt, the constant stress of the past few months – was overwhelming him, and seeing Jisung’s heartbroken face had pushed him over the edge. Every mistake, every regret, came crashing down on him like a wave. The betrayal etched into Jisung's expression played over and over in his mind, making him feel as though he was being crushed from every side. “I’ll talk to him”, Minho whispered, his voice shaky, barely holding back the sobs threatening to escape. “But thank you.” Slowly, with legs that felt like they might give out at any moment, he stood from the couch. The mumbled conversations of his friends buzzed faintly in the background, but they felt miles away. He walked through the living room, his steps heavy as if weighed down by invisible chains, before finally reaching the door to his bedroom. He paused for a moment, steeling himself, before opening the door and stepping inside. Jisung sat on the bed, his back to the door, staring out of the window. The stillness in the room was deafening, and Minho’s heart clenched painfully as he took in the sight of him. “I don’t wanna hear it”, Jisung’s voice came out cold and distant, the sharp edge of it slicing through Minho like a knife. It was a tone Minho had never heard from him before, one that was filled with so much hurt and anger that it made his chest ache. Minho inhaled shakily, closing the door behind him with trembling hands before he made his way to sit on his chair. His throat was tight, and it took everything in him to keep his voice from cracking when he spoke. “I thought you changed your mind”, he whispered, his voice barely audible over the pounding of his heart. “I thought you left me to support your family or that maybe you didn’t love me the way I love you after all.” Jisung flinched at his words, but his body remained rigid. When he finally turned around, the glare in his eyes was like a slap to Minho’s already wounded soul. “So you fucked Seungmin because you love me?” Jisung hissed, his words dripping with anger, each one hitting Minho like a physical blow. Minho opened his mouth to respond, but Jisung wasn’t finished. He stood up, his expression twisting in fury and pain. “In all those days when I was chained to a pipe in my father’s basement, I thought about you. I was thinking about how you were doing, whether you were okay, what you were feeling, how you’d cope with all of this.” His voice was rising, each sentence a dagger into Minho’s chest. “I was thinking about ways to get back to you, Minho. Every. Damn. Day.” Minho’s stomach twisted into tight, painful knots. He tried a shaky step toward the bed, but his legs were weak, barely holding him up as he slumped back onto the chair. His vision blurred again, not just from the tears but from the sheer emotional exhaustion weighing him down. “Hannie, I-”, he started, but his voice failed him. “And here you are, fucking around”, Jisung hissed, his voice venomous, the betrayal clear in every word. His eyes were burning with an intensity that made Minho want to shrink away and disappear forever. Those words felt like the final blow, the one that left Minho utterly hollow. He swallowed hard, feeling the overwhelming guilt rise up like bile in his throat. Slowly, he nodded, not bothering to deny it – he couldn’t. He knew he was at fault, that everything about what he had done was wrong, selfish, and destructive, even if he had needed it at that moment. “I-”, Minho’s voice wavered, thick with emotions. “I thought I had lost you. I didn’t know how to handle it, how to handle the pain and I..”, his words broke off as tears spilled over, his face crumpling as the weight of his actions crashed down on him once again. “I’m so sorry.” But his apology felt meaningless, the words hollow and weak. He knew it wasn’t enough – how could it be? He had hurt Jisung in the worst way possible, and no amount of apologies could fix that.