El Roommate [✔️]

Dec. 8th (1/6)

I finally know how I'm gonna end the story....
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8:49am

It was 8:30 when Caleb got a phone call. He answered it on the third ring. And he was lucky that he did answer it. Because it had been his manager telling him that he didn't need to come in today.

There'd be enough people on his shift. And it wasn't busy.

So for him to come in would be a 'waste of time,' As his manager had put it.

But really, Caleb knew that it'd be a waste of money to bring one more person in to an already full shift on a slow day.

Anyways, Caleb was sure that if he didn't answer, he wouldn't have even gotten a text from his manager. Because his manager was a dick.

He often said, 'you snooze, you lose.'

So he would've gone in an one of the snot-nosed teenagers would've got sent home instead.

After hanging up his phone, he had rolled over to tell Minho. But the older wasn't in the bed.

In fact, it didn't even sound like he was in the apartment.

He had gotten up and shoved his phone in his pocket and left the room with the intention of seeing if his lover was in the apartment.

And that was how he ended up in the living room watching TV at a low volume.

Because his boyfriend had been home. And he had been sitting on the sofa reading a book.

Minho's books were much like Caleb's music: he couldn't live without it. And if someone interrupted him while he was engaged, they'd get snapped at.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Minho fix his place holder in his book and then close it before looking over at him.

"When am I gonna get to meet your parents?" The older enquires.

And Caleb sighed. Any happiness he had at the moment kinda just flew away - like birds did when the slightest movement occurred near them.

He kinda wanted to tell him to get it off of his chest. But he didn't want to talk about his parents. It hurt him so much.

"Uh ... never. Probably."

His parents weren't bad people. So he wasn't ashamed to talk about them. But it just hurt ... he wished he could see them. He wish he knew that they loved him.

"Why?"

"Because they're dead, Minho."

The older frowned. The second ... or maybe first real sign of emotion he had seen on the older's face.

"Oh. I'm sorry."

Caleb smiled sadly. "You didn't know. It's okay."

"How'd they die?" The older enquired once more.

"Do you want the long story or the short story?"

"Whichever works for you."