just pretend.

52.

Jisung's heart raced as he sprinted towards the lift, his hands shaking uncontrollably while he frantically pressed the button, as if hitting it repeatedly would make the doors close faster. The wait felt agonizingly long, his pulse pounding in his ears as the familiar hum of the elevator echoed around him. His breath came in shallow bursts, every second stretching like an eternity. He struggled to keep his rising panic in check, but it gripped him relentlessly, making his chest tight and his vision blur slightly around the edges. When the lift finally opened on his floor, he burst out of the metal box, nearly stumbling as he ran to the apartment door. He slammed against it with both fists, the force rattling the wood. Before he could knock again, the door flew open, revealing Felix’s wide eyes. Felix’s usual playful expression vanished the second he saw Jisung’s face, his freckled features shifting to concern. “Where's Seungmin?”, Felix asked, but Jisung didn’t answer. Instead, he shoved past him, his legs unsteady as he stumbled into the living room. The room fell silent as all eyes turned to him, their expressions shifting from casual to alarmed. Jisung's breath hitched, his throat tight as the words barely escaped him. “Wooyoung got Seungmin, and he’s armed.” The sentence left his lips in a weak and broken whisper, but the impact was immediate. Minho was the first to react. His body jerked to life as if struck by lightning, his face draining of color. Without thinking, he moved toward the door, his movements automatic, desperate. “No – Minho, stop!”, Jisung shouted, grabbing him around the torso, his arms locking tight around him. He wasn’t just trying to hold Minho back – he was holding onto him for stability, needing something solid to keep himself from falling apart. Minho resisted at first, but then his legs gave out beneath him, and he collapsed, pulling Jisung down with him. “What happened?”, Minho sobbed, his voice so small, so broken that it shattered Jisung’s heart. Minho clung to him, his face buried in Jisung’s shoulder, his sobs quiet but gut-wrenching. Jisung held him as tightly as he could, but his gaze was locked on his brother, as a wave of helplessness washed over him. “We’re going”, Minju said firmly, his voice cutting through the chaos. Jiho, who had been silent in the back, nodded in agreement. The two moved with a deadly calm, checking their guns as if this was something routine, something they had prepared for their whole lives. Jisung’s heart clenched at the sight of it, knowing that they were stepping into danger. “I’m coming with you”, Jisung croaked, trying to push Minho off him. He needed to help, to do something, anything. But Minho’s grip tightened, keeping him rooted in place. The sobs had ebbed now, and when Jisung looked down, all he saw in Minho’s tear-streaked face was rage – a cold, unwavering fury. “Hannie”, Minho’s voice broke the tension, but it was devoid of any warmth. Jisung’s heart skipped a beat, fear gripping him for a moment, thinking Minho’s anger was directed at him. But then Minho stood up, pulling Jisung to his feet with a strength Jisung hadn’t expected, surprising him. “Let’s get that bastard”, Minho said, his voice low and strained, but filled with a steely determination that sent a chill down Jisung’s spine. Minho didn’t waste another second. He darted into the kitchen, his hands moving with purpose as he rifled through the drawers. A moment later, he reemerged, holding two of the biggest knives he could find. He shoved one into Jisung’s hand, his gaze hard and unflinching. Jisung knew bringing a knife to a gunfight was a fool’s game, but at this point, it didn’t matter. They weren’t going to sit back and do nothing. It wasn’t about the odds anymore – it was about doing whatever they could to bring Seungmin back. Jisung held the knife tightly, his hand still trembling, but now it wasn’t just from fear – it was from the rage building in his chest. They were going after Wooyoung, and they weren’t coming back without Seungmin.

They had been driving around aimlessly, searching for any sign of Wooyoung’s van until dusk settled over the city, casting everything into shadows. Exhaustion had caught up with Jisung, and he had unwittingly dozed off for a few precious minutes. His eyes snapped open abruptly, his body jerking upright in the passenger seat, heart racing with adrenaline. “Min”, he gasped, his fingers gripping the door handle tightly. Minho glanced over at him, furrowing his brow. “Did you see something?”, he asked, his voice tinged with worry and confusion. Jisung shook his head, trying to steady his breathing. “We need to go home”, he said urgently, his mind racing with a sense of impending dread. Without waiting for Minho to respond, he gestured for him to turn the car around, directing them back towards their apartment. “Do you think Seungmin will be home by now? Do you think your brother found him?”, Minho’s voice quivered slightly as he spoke, the anxiety palpable in his tone. Jisung struggled to find the right words, the truth weighing heavy on his chest. Seungmin wasn’t safe at home – he was out there, somewhere, at Wooyoung’s mercy. But Jisung couldn’t bring himself to voice his fears aloud. When they finally pulled up to their building, Minho killed the engine, and Jisung wasted no time, practically pushing Minho towards the entrance. His eyes scanned the dimly lit surroundings, nerves on edge. Then, Wooyoung’s mocking voice sliced through the silence, freezing them both in their tracks. “You’re so predictable, Hannie”, the voice taunted from the shadows, sending a chill down Jisung’s spine. “Go inside”, Jisung whispered to Minho, his voice strained with fear and determination. Minho hesitated for a moment, uncertainty clouding his expression. Without another word, Jisung reached into Minho’s pocket, swiftly retrieving his keys. With a quick, apologetic glance, he unlocked the door and pushed Minho inside, their eyes meeting briefly before Jisung turned on his heel and sprinted towards Wooyoung’s voice. His heart pounded in his chest as he raced towards the danger, driven by desperation and a fierce need to protect those he loved. He knew the risk he was taking, but he couldn’t stand by and do nothing. If it meant sacrificing himself to save Minho and Seungmin, he was willing to do it. The click of a gun brought him to a halt, the sound echoing in the tense silence. Jisung raised his hands slowly, a facade of surrender masking his true intentions. His gaze met Wooyoung’s, the man’s eyes gleaming with malevolence in the dim light. Without a word, Wooyoung motioned towards a nearby vehicle, and Jisung complied, slipping into the van without protest. Jisung stole a glance back at the apartment building, a wave of relief washing over him as he saw no sign of Minho.