Beautiful, Dirty, Rich (Monsta X Fanfiction)

Chapter Fifty Eight: Don't Eat the Lotus Flowers

A week later, and I was finished with my finals. A feeling of regret and relaxation washed over me as I stepped out of my class. Sure, I might have flunked all of my finals. I might get "F's" on all of my papers. But at least I got it over with.

Minhyuk and I were heading back home, both equally exhausted. I assumed he was tired out from finally doing his own coursework. He could pay nerds to write his papers and do his assignments, but he had to take his own tests himself (just like the rest of us peasants).

When we got in the car Minhyuk looked ashamed, almost. He let out a deep sigh while putting on his seat belt.

"What's wrong?" I asked, "I know you're not at all worried about your grades."

He looked too apprehensive to respond. But eventually, he spoke, "The p.i. hasn't found anything," Minhyuk said defeatedly, "He's been looking for anyone named Hyunwoo. But no such guy even entered the club that night. No guy with that name is known to frequent that area."

"So he used a fake name?" I asked lowly.

"Probably..." Minhyuk replied, "And finding a guy who used an alias, and wasn't known to the area... it's virtually impossible."

Without any evidence to track this guy down, then I was doomed to live the rest of my life not knowing the truth about that night. I was starting to get used to the idea of not knowing.

"If only we had more physical evidence," he muttered.

We sat in silence while I considered the statement. Physical evidence like a picture of the guy or surveillance camera footage would be extremely helpful. But we didn't have anything like that... unless.

I finally remembered, we did have more evidence! It was sitting in my bedroom, back at the penthouse.

"The clothes!" I gasped.

Minhyuk turned to look at me with an excited expression on his face, "Right! The guy left his clothes behind! If we check the clothes, maybe we can follow the serial number..."

"Exactly!"

"Let's head back to the house then."

Minhyuk shifted gears, and we flipped a u-turn, driving full-speed to the penthouse. Part of me was worried about running into Wonho. We hadn't spoken in over a week. But the other part of me was far too excited to see the evidence.

As we stood in the elevator, heading to the top of the apartment building, Minhyuk and I were pacing in anticipation. When the doors opened, we hurried through the foyer (no Wonho in sight) straight to my room.

I pushed open the bedroom door, finding everything was left exactly the same. Most of my drawers were ajar from when I packed. Hyunwoo's clothes stayed in a pile on the ground. Minhyuk walked over to the pile, picking them up. He examined the clothes, flipping them inside out, checking the tags.

He remained silent, and the anticipation was killing me.

"What the hell are you looking for?" I finally blurted out, looking over his shoulder at the clothes.

"These clothes..." Minhyuk brought the t-shirt up to his face and sniffed it, "They're brand new."

"What?" I asked, sort of put off by the sight of him sniffing the clothes.

I tried it out for myself, smiling the t-shirt. It smelled... brand new. Almost as bland as a clothing store usually smells.

"So?" I pressed.

"So, these were purchased right before they were thrown on the hotel room floor," Minhyuk explained, "They aren't wrinkled or worn in. And they don't even match in size," he held up the jeans and then the t-shirt, "The top is way larger than the jeans, and I rarely see men that top heavy. It's simply impossible these both belong to one man."