overpopulated ▪︎ minsung

chapter 2; loss

When Jisung got a phone call in the middle of his English lecture, he completely blew it off as another scammer trying to get him to purchase insurance for his nonexistent car. He didn't recognize the number and with an apologetic smile to his annoyed English professor, he threw his phone back to the bottom of his bookbag.

It wasn't until he left his final class of the day (Mondays, he decided, hated him) that he checked his phone. The number left a voicemail in his almost empty inbox, and he couldn't ignore his curiosity. He fished around for his earbuds in his cluttered jacket pocket and found them with a triumphant smile. The audio began with a sniffle and a cough.

"Hi, Sungie."

Jisung recognized that voice faster than he recognized his own face.

"I know this is weird, because, ya know, this isn't my number." Minho laughed, but it quickly transformed into a trembling sigh. "I'm at the hospital right now with Channie. Woojin isn't doing too good."

Jisung froze in his spot. His classmates flittered around him in the hallways, smiling, unaware, most without a death dot on their tanned hands. Woojin had been friends with Minho since he began college, immediately adopting the freshmen as his own. When Minho learned that Woojin had been hiding his red dot under mountains of concealer, he was heartbroken. The thing about these peculiar dots that made them so dangerous was their unpredictably. The person with said dot obliviously lived life, never knowing when they would die. It could be the minute they turn eighteen, maybe when they're thirty. The government was random with their choosing and their timing.

Jisung despised them.

"So, anyway," Minho inhaled shakily. "I really need you here, Jisung. Please come, we're at Severance Hospital. Call me back so I can meet you in the lobby."

The audio grew silent, and Jisung checked to see if it was over, but there were still twenty seconds left.

"I love you so much," Minho's soft cry rang through his speakers like a bullet. God, when Minho cried, Jisung's whole body ached.

He quickly hailed a taxi and practically screamed the address in the poor man's face. His job at the pet store would have to wait; his boyfriend needed him more.

The cab entered the parking lot, and Jisung jumped from the backseat, scanning his taxi app on the way out. The nurses were startled by him slamming into the receptionist deck, some giving him confused grimaces.

"Hi, I need to know what room Kim Woojin is in."

The receptionist tapped away at her computer, seemingly to answer the anxious teen's question when Minho's beautiful voice caught his attention.

"Jisung!"

"Oh my god, Minho, are you okay?" Jisung grabbed Minho's (his) sweater and pulled the man into his arms.

"Sungie, I'm not the one you should be worried about." Minho cracked a small grin, but his eyes were red and puffy, obviously from crying.

Jisung relaxed his tense shoulders and brushed Minho's bangs away from his eyes. "I'll always worry about you."

Minho leaned closer to gently peck Jisung's heart-shaped lips and intertwined their fingers.

"C'mon, let's go see them."

The ride in the elevator was filled with awkward tension on Jisung's behalf. He fidgeted with his hands, tapped his foot, bit his lip. Personally, he had never seen the effects of the red dot on a person. His own parents were immune and his siblings were all younger than him.

Minho knocked on the closed hospital door softly so as not to disturb other patients, and walked in after hearing Chan's "Jesus Minho, you don't have to knock". Jisung disagreed, they definitely had to knock. The couple had walked in on Chan and Woojin far too many times during their relationship.

God, Jisung hadn't even thought of how Chan would feel. He couldn't imagine losing Minho, and when he did it left a numb pain behind.

"Aw, Channie, you know damn well we have to knock," Minho cooed teasingly. Jisung could see Chan holding hands with Woojin, but couldn't see the oldest man's face. Minho took off his coat and gestured for Jisung to do the same, a sure tell sign that they would be staying at least overnight.

"Is that Jisung?" Woojin asked from behind the curtain. His voice made Jisung cringe; it was gravelly and raw. Each syllable scratched his throat with their spiny claws.

"Hi, Woojin," Jisung peeked from behind the curtain and hesitantly approached his friend. Red tint surrounded his lips, and every inhale made his chest shudder. It broke Jisung.

"How are you?"

It was a stupid question, and looking back on it, he'd admit there was an obvious answer, but he panicked. What do you say to someone who's dying?

Woojin wheezed out what Jisung believed was a laugh. "Jisung, just say it. I already know. I knew the day I got this fucking circle."

Chan's easygoing smiled slipped from his face, and his hand trembled in Woojin's.

"Chan, please don't cry again." Woojin reached over to gently pat Chan's hair and brush his finger along Chan's fluttering eyelids. Jisung glanced around the room, suddenly aware of his boyfriend's absence. The light under the bathroom door was on, however, and Jisung joined Minho in the secluded area.

"Minho? What's wrong?" Jisung rushed to his boyfriend's side, rubbing his tummy softly. Tears dripped down Minho's flawless cheeks and across his shaking hands. Jisung saw Minho cry the day he broke his leg before a dance recital, he watched him cry during Frozen 2 and when his cat died, but this, this was something completely different.

"It's all real now, you know? I tell you all the time, don't worry, Sungie, it'll be alright, I'll always be with you, but how the hell am I supposed to know? I've never done this before. I've never watched someone die from this goddamn program." Minho huffed and violently wiped at his overflowing eyes. He caught Jisung's concerned gaze in the mirror and held it. "I could lose you, Jisung. No, no, I might lose you. That's fucking terrifying."

Jisung didn't know what to say. Minho seemed to understand that, because he experimentally smiled at himself in the mirror (checking for sincerity, Jisung assumed), and left the bathroom.

"Channie," Jisung heard him whine, followed by a thud and the bang of the hospital chairs. Chan cursed about the weight and the two began to mess around. Jisung was frozen, staring at himself in the mirror. His birthday wasn't for another month or two, but already he felt the dread. As awful as it sounded, he didn't want to be Woojin. He didn't want to die and be okay with it. He wanted to fight it and live with his boyfriend and his two cats without fear of dying.

"Sungie, come here," Woojin called. Jisung snapped out of his daze and dashed to Woojin's side.

"Yes? Do you need anything?"

Woojin gently tugged on Jisung's wrist, and the teenager took the hint. He carefully crawled into Woojin's open arms, avoiding the IV's and heart rate monitors.

"I need you to look," Woojin whispered, pointing subtly to Chan and Minho. Jisung peeked over his shoulder and saw the two men smiling and laughing, Chan with a spazzing Minho tucked under his arm. "I'm not willingly leaving this behind, Sung."

Jisungs eyes popped open, "Wait, how did you-"

"I know you, and I think you should know this anyway. No matter what color you get, Minho will love you. He will give you everything you're wishing for, and you will die, slowly and painfully, knowing that you spent your life with the best man in the world."

Jisung sighed and curled further into Woojin's chest.

"I love you, Woojin."

And Jisung fell asleep. He was unaware that only an hour later, he would wake up after being pushed off of Woojin's still chest and into his boyfriends' arms. He was unaware that Chan would try and take his life by jumping from the hospital roof and fail. He was unaware that Minho made a decision that would eventually kill him after that night.

He was warm and happy, dreaming of two cats and the love of his life.

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