When Minho Was There • Minsung

𝟏𝟐

Jisung was not one to join a crowd. He preferred to do things alone, by myself, without the possibility of judgment from others.

Attending Minho's party was a huge step in moving him out of his bubble. The longer Jisung was downstairs, the more he realized how out of place he was. He certainly wasn't fitting in with the crowd. People watched him, no matter how hidden he was behind Minho. It was something he'd have to get used to.

The two of them made their way into the ballroom, which was where the main event was. The rich lived in a completely different world. One that consisted of caviar and champagne for breakfast. The air smelled strongly of cigar smoke and cinnamon—quite an interesting combination.

A huge chandelier hung in the center of the ballroom, but nobody was really awestruck by it. They must have seen a thousand like it, whereas Jisung had never even seen a real crystal, let alone a chandelier made of a hundred of them.

"Is this the flower boy you mentioned?"

Jisung was too busy observing the other guests to even notice that Minho was talking to someone. He'd only realized this when the elder shot him a glance, nudging him with his elbow.

A tall man stood in front of them. By the gloss in his eyes and the pinkness of his cheekbones, Jisung could tell the gentleman was drunk—maybe even past that. The longer he looked at him, the more he noticed similarities between him and Minho.

Is this perhaps his father?

It would make sense. They both had that nonchalant 'I don't want to be here' resting face, the angled nose, and a sharp jawline. There was no doubt that the man and Minho were related.

"Yes." Minho's voice was smooth, and it put Jisung's nerves to rest whenever he heard it. He stood close to Minho but didn't touch him in fear of gaining more unwanted attention. "The flower boy."

There were many people watching them, and though Minho didn't act upon it, he knew it too. He seemed used to the act, though.

Sometimes, if he listened carefully, Jisung could hear the hushed conversations the rich folks were having. Topics usually consist of the following: "There's Minho," followed by "he'll be handsome just like his father."

The guests, especially the women, were always talking about Minho. Minho this and Minho that, it was a never-ending waterfall of compliments and innuendos, some of which Jisung understood much too quickly. One thing was for certain: Minho had garnered a reputation for himself and was very popular among these ladies.

It was a bit strange though, considering that the women in attendance were most likely friends of Minho's mother, meaning that they were speaking inappropriately of him despite the fact that he was young enough to be their firstborn.

Minho was deep in conversation with an older gentleman, discussing something that had to do with solar-powered devices and what-not. Jisung could admit he found it rather boring, but he stood by Minho because, well, he was too afraid to go out on his own.

He was startled, to say the least, when the chatter in the room slowly died down and all focus was directed towards him.

Have I done something wrong?

His body jolted when he felt a light tap on his shoulder. Jisung gulped, glancing at Minho, who had also gone silent. The man motioned for Jisung to turn around, and so he did just that.

There was a woman standing behind him; she was taller than him, and her knees were slightly bent so she could be at level with him. Although it didn't turn out like that, instead, his face was right in front of her cleavage. Jisung took a step back, slightly uncomfortable with how close she was.