What if...? || Markhyuck

-30-

[october 2020]

[donghyuck]

I was like next to everything I didn't understand anyway. Like random observer. 

I sat on a chair with my arms crossed on chest and watched from a distance as Minhyung and Steven were at each other's throats for the thousandth time this week. The whole thing seemed trivial but only from my perspective.

In less than a month, in the company's nonexistent calendar was placed a huge market of juvenile girls, who were later to be given away as exclusive prostitutes to mafia brothels. Marco only participated in it as a guest, politely as an observer because he was slowly completing the entire project of removing such attractions from his business. In addition to his bodyguards, Minhyung was also to participate in the event. Steven, apparently, always had that particular November day off every year, which the black-haired knew perfectly well. Marco decided to unexpectedly take Zayn with him and Lee said he was withdrawing from the whole event and Perez had to find a replacement for him. And he found it but unfortunately the recipient had completely different plans that the boss couldn't know about and the official escape with a real excuse was out of the question here.

As I have long known, even Steven, who allegedly doesn't have private life and his little secrets, in fact had great secrets that no one would ever know. That is why I fully understood him, although the scale of outrage and insults he had recently directed at Minhyung had even reached a pathological dimension. I began to wonder if this game is really worth a candle. It must have been cruelly serious or just so incredibly important in Steven's system of values ​​that he spared no words.

Of course, I took Mark's side in my heart. However, only at the beginning - until he didn't open his mouth. At the time, I decided that I wasn't even going to get involved in it. Let everyone solve their own affairs. The cesspool exploded to such an extent that if they could, they would pull out the buried dirt of their deceased ancestors from five hundred generations back and stand up to the medieval battle of penises to solve the feuds that digested their families. Over the past few days I've learned such things that I would love to be deaf at the time of their mini games of death. 

You did this, you did that; and when this was happening, you were somewhere; because it's a secret and it isn't; and you motherfucker without honor was where; - and not your business because you're like these and that; and go back to the center you sick fucker; you weren't there so you don't know, then shut the mouth selfish pig.

Over and over again.

Endless battle of insults .

"I wish you'll be treated the same in the future," my friend finally growled. "You'll finally realize that the whole world doesn't revolve around you, you fucking dickhead," he tossed away, going towards the exit. "Maybe you can talk some senses into him because I already give up," he said to me, slamming the door from the basement. I looked uncertainly at Mark, who was still standing still with hands on hips, looking into space, as if he didn't quite realize that anyone in this world dared to call him fucking dickhead.

"Mine revolves," I whispered with a smile, wanting to cheer him up a little but he gave me such a cold look that I immediately let go anything positive from my face. He cursed severely under breath and sat on the couch.

The completely other fact was that how Minhyung actually behaved lately - it seemed to be a separate issue. He became cold again, distant and totally alien to me. Every initiative or good word on my part bounced back like ball threw in an ice wall that nothing could melt. He didn't want to spend time with me, he avoided me in the corridor, pretended that Marco gives him a pile of work, although he was well aware that I knew it was a lie. Nothing has happened in the company for a long time. The question why? remained unanswered.