Silent Blue ✦ 2jae (discontinued)

. six .

Nine o'clock on a sunny Tuesday morning, Choi Youngmin would take his son from school for the three-hour drive to his mother. These car rides occurred only once every two months, but Youngjae wished they happened more often. The two only started going there just before he entered college, and every time, the first drive pops back into Youngjae's mind.

His mother sitting reluctantly in the back, awakening from deep slumbers into angry fits that she controlled so minimally. Youngjae chewing gum anxiously, music too loud while he listened through the noise at his mother's complaining, trying to ignore the smell of her breath and in her hair that lingered in the car. His mom never liked the windows open.

This time, he sat in the back with the book he'd been holding onto, and the smell replaced with faded cleaner and cologne that his dad had sprayed months before. He went from reading to staring out the window— reading, then staring.

"What's your mind so stuck in, huh?" his dad asked, looking at him through the rear-view mirror. Youngjae looked up from the book, entranced in the story of Matt Alacrán's life as a clone.

"Oh— The new librarian recommended it," he answered, Im Jaebum suddenly, unexpectedly, coming to mind.

"New librarian... What happened to the other one?"

"Nothing. This guy works on weekends now." Youngmin nodded, eyes dead set on the road now, and Youngjae closed the book on page 106. He rolled his head to the side, looking out at the grassy plains they drove by, and somehow everything was beige. He'd never realized how common the colour was in the sky and in trees, trickling down to the car that was probably twenty years old and painting over his favourite sweater. Even the building they were driving to, he realized, was beige.

He closed his eyes, bored out of his mind— there was another 45 minutes to endure— and tried to fall asleep, but it didn't work. A thought, and quite a stupid one he imagined, seeped into his mind of reaching page 187 or 188, even the very last page, and seeing some kind of note or scribble from the pen Jaebum kept in his breast pocket. Text me when you've seen this!!! xxx.xxx.xxxx or Let's grab coffee on Saturday, even just I have a book club. Stop by if you'd like :) etched somewhere within the pages, between the words of hatred for clones and secrets of the house, but he didn't know what in the world he was thinking.

"Come on, bud, wake up," he heard. His eyes flitted open to see that they were already in the parking lot, where another beige car sat in the sun. "You too tired to see your mom?" he laughed. "Here." Youngjae was handed a tissue to wipe his drool with. He yawned, wiping the saliva from his face and the car seat and tossed the tissue onto the floor of the vehicle.

"What do you think she'll wear this time?" he asked while Youngmin closed the door. He squinted against the sun, saying, "I know there's a sundress she hasn't worn in a while..."

"Maybe the yellow cardigan she's always had," Youngmin guessed. "We'll see," he smiled, holding flowers in one hand and his other arm around Youngjae's shoulders.

Beige greeted them when they walked inside, shoes barely making sound against the thin rug behind the automated door. "Go sit down," Youngjae was told. "Hi. Choi Youngmin to see Choi Inhae." He walked over to the seating area and looked around, gripping the book tight in his hands. It didn't look any different than the first time he'd visited— or the time after that, or the time after that. "Youngjae!" his father called, gesturing for him to stand up.

"That was quick," Youngjae said. "I didn't even have time to cross my legs." His father laughed at this as they walked down the seemingly winding hallways to his mother's room, past fake plants and candy machines until they saw her door. Hers was so easily distinguishable, with a wreath of little pink and white flowers she made hanging around her door number.

Youngmin opened the door, not surprised by the fact that it was unlocked. Inhae liked it that way when she knew she was expecting somebody. "May we come in?" She was sitting on her bed, watching something on TV when the door opened. Youngjae and his father were both wrong— she was wearing sweatpants and Youngmin's hoodie.

She didn't say anything at first, smiling and running up to her husband first. "I know I don't look good now, but I got my nails done," she said excitedly. Youngmin held her hands and looked at her newly painted nails, a sheer lavender that he'd never seen on her hands before. "Youngjae!" She quickly hugged him, holding on tight.

"Hi, mom," he smiled into her shoulder. His dad closed the door, locking it, and they moved towards the small couch. When they sat down, Youngjae put his hands on her face and told her, "You look beautiful. Much better." They both smiled, all of them filled with pride.

"Ah, I didn't wash my hair yet..." she suddenly said, tugging at her messy hair.

"Honey, don't shower now, we just got here," Youngmin laughed. "Youngjae's right though. You look fantastic." They kissed quickly, and Youngjae stuck his tongue out playfully, making a noise to match his expression.

They all laughed, and Inhae commented, "Did he even grow up past eight?" Youngjae laughed hard and knocked some candy off the desk by accident, apologizing an unnecessary number of times. "I just got out from my group before you came, which is why I haven't showered yet."

"Stop, stop, don't worry," Youngmin affirmed, holding her close. "Let's just be together, all of us, hm?" Youngjae nodded, tossing the book aside and lying on the couch with his head in his mother's lap.

"Let's watch some sitcoms," Youngjae suggested, taking the remote.

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