Origami Nuances

Tired

Zen stared blankly at the smooth wood floor of the training room, a bottle of mineral water in his grasp. All around him people were practicing their lines, speaking to each other, but all he could do was lean against the wall weakly. Remnants of the conversation he had with Jumin's imposing father reverberated in his ears, weighing his heart down.

"Zen! It's your scene, you ready?" He heard someone yell from the other side of the practise room. He looked up weakly and answered. "Yes." As he put his bottle down and faced the girl standing opposite of him, he couldn't bring himself to look up. He felt so defeated that he couldn't muster the energy to do so.

"Dohyun, I saw... I saw her today." The girl opposite him had begun to act. She looked expectantly at him, and he knew it was probably his turn to act. But he couldn't remember anything. His mind was fuzzy, just like a broken television. He opened his mouth to speak, then closed it a few seconds later, just like a fish. The crew started to gather around him.

"Zen, you okay? You don't look so good." The director spoke. He sighed and looked up at him. "Yeah, sorry but...could I leave for today? I'm so sorry, but I don't feel well." He said in a weak voice. The director nodded and gripped Zen's shoulder firmly, smiling at him. "Get better soon!" He said. Zen nodded back in response and turned to leave.

It didn't help that just the day before his very first rehearsal, Jumin's father had met him. Met him and...offered him a daunting ultimatum. Zen couldn't get his words out of his head. His words, the shame he felt, the sensation of cold water on his skin.

The moment he reached home, he collapsed on the floor, slumping against the wall weakly. It had taken all his willpower just to keep up until he reached home, where he was out of sight. His lips trembled and he felt familiar pricks in his eyes.

He didn't know what to do. Or what he should do. Was he selfish enough to allow Jumin to be disinherited? Was his father being serious? Should he tell Jumin?

He shook his head as the first tear fell out of his left eye. No, he knew what Jumin would do. Without hesitation, he'd give up his wealth. And Zen didn't want to destroy Jumin's relationship with his father, either. Letting him know would surely rip them apart. He pulled his knees to his chest and let out a strangled sob. Was there only one answer to this? Did he really have to leave Jumin? Flashes of his memories with Jumin passed through his head in that instant. His warm gaze, his tight but reassuring grip, his soft smile. Could he bear to give him up?

Zen didn't think his heart could.

He felt something vibrating in his pocket. Sniffling, he slipped out his phone from the pocket. The moment he read the Caller ID he felt more tears cloud his vision. His fingers shakily hovered over the decline button as he struggled to silence his sobs. But he had to face it. He had to do it now, when he had the conviction. He knew he wouldn't have the strength to leave Jumin after this.

It was now or never.

"Hello." Zen fought to keep his cries silent as Jumin's deep voice echoed from the receiver. "Hello? Zen?" Jumin spoke again, after a few seconds of being met with silence. Zen squeezed his eyes shut and opened them again, steeling himself. "Jumin." He spoke in a cold tone.

On the other end, Jumin was surprised to hear Zen's blank voice. He had never once heard him like that. "What's wrong with your voice? Was it the rehearsal? Did it go badly?" Jumin asked, concerned. Zen bit his lower lip so hard that he tasted the metallic taste of his own blood. "It's nothing." He paused for a second, not knowing how to bring it up. "Do you want to stay over today? I can work from home tomorrow." Jumin said on the other end, evidently in a better mood than Zen. Zen's heart began to hurt itself against his ribcage as his pace quickened. Could he really maintain his resolve even while having to look at Jumin's face as he did it? Was he cruel enough?

But one last memory with Jumin sounded enticing. One last time to hold his hand, to meet his warm gaze, to feel him near. "Okay. I'll come over now." Zen heard himself saying, then he ended the call. He looked across the room, into the mirror propped against the wall. He realised that he looked as weak as he felt. He felt like he was on the brink of breaking down again, just as he had been the first time the people he loved chose to abandon him.

Except this time, he was the one abandoning the one he loved.