𝟐𝟗

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Jisung doesn't remember falling asleep. In fact, right now, he's unsure whether he's awake, asleep, or dreaming. He can hear the soft patter of rain dripping onto the platform through the hole in the ceiling. He can feel the beating rhythm of Minho's heartbeat, yet for some reason, all he sees is the sun.

The sun broke through the windows, filling the silo with its blinding glow. It seems Minho leaned against the wall, a small path of drool pooling in the corner of his left lip.

Strange. If this is a dream, where am I?

It was beyond weird. What he saw was completely different from what he heard and felt. Minho was there alone, with no one else in sight. He looked so mesmerizing that even when he was asleep, Jisung couldn't deny how handsome his boyfriend was. With his shiny blonde hair and firm arms crossed over his chest, his nose and eyebrows scrunched as soft, quiet snores slipped from his lips.

His body felt tingly as he took in the sight before him. But then that sinking feeling returned. What was this out-of-body experience? And why was he not there, sleeping on Minho's lap?

The stairs behind Jisung creaked, and he turned around, expecting to see some sort of critter, maybe a raccoon or squirrel, but what he saw was ten times more frightening.

It was that stupid, man-stealing Minho hogging Bang Chan. Jisung seethed, glaring as the man cautiously climbed up the staircase.

He stood there, unable to move, as Bang Chan drew closer and closer to Minho until he was crouched down next to him, reaching out a hand to caress Minho's cheek.

This is a cruel, cruel dream. Why on earth couldn't he move? Why was he forced to stand still, watching as this man touched his boyfriend.

"Are you okay?" Bang Chan whispered as he tucked a strand of Minho's hair behind his ear. Jisung let out a noise of discontent, yet his body refused to let him look away.

Minho startled awake, his back colliding with the wall behind him. Jisung's face morphed into one of betrayal as he saw Minho's eyes instantly light up at the sight of Bang Chan.

"Chan." Minho exhaled, tugging the man forward so that he could hug him. The two of them melded together, Chan's hand rubbing circles on Minho's back as he soothed him.

Jisung didn't blink. Jisung didn't breathe. Jisung didn't move an inch. He just watched as his heart was ripped into pieces in front of him.

"I thought you'd never come." Minho cried out, nuzzling his face deep into Bang Chan's neck. That was what Jisung did to Minho.

And as if there couldn't be any more damage done, it just got worse. Jisung watched with full eyes and damp cheeks as Bang Chan titled Minho's head, pressing a chaste kiss to the corner of his stupidly pretty lips. "Let's go home."

Then, finally, Jisung was allowed to close his eyes and fall asleep. That night, he wished he'd never wake up.

Jisung groaned as he rolled around on the floor, his cheeks pressed up against the wooden surface of the platform. His back ached terribly, and his face felt puffy. There was no more rain, but he could still hear a few droplets hitting the ground as they slid off the roof. He situated himself on his back, staring up at the rotting ceiling.

Somehow, he'd managed to fall asleep. Huffing in exhaustion, Jisung rubbed at his eyes, trying his best to get rid of the sleepiness that had consumed him.

That was such a gross nightmare—wait till Minho hears about it—but as he turned to the side, a big smile on his face as he was about to wake up Minho, Jisung stopped.

There was no Minho. He wasn't there anymore. Neither was the leather jacket. Everything was gone; Jisung was alone. "Minho?" he called out groggily.

He got up as quick as his body would let him, stumbling over to the staircase and peering down the railing. But there was nothing, no sign of anyone besides himself.

Jisung's shoes thudded against the grass as he bolted out of the silo, not bothering to slow down. Screw his asthma; screw everything. How could Minho leave him?

"Minho!" Jisung shouted out as he circled the silo and the surrounding forest. There was nobody there except for him. The air was thick and cold, but Jisung didn't even register it; his body was already numb and his hands were shaking furiously. "Minho!!" He tried again, but it was no use. No one could hear him.

Of course he was crying again; he always did when it came to Minho. He couldn't even get one person to stay by his side. Jisung's throat was scratchy and dry from using it to shout his boyfriend's name.

Minho...you left me behind!

I was six when everyone I'd ever known and loved refused to look after me, simply because they didn't want the burden of raising me. I had to sit there on the day of my foster family's funeral. It was my second time attending the funeral of those who were supposed to nurture me, to love me, and to help me grow up. My foster family vowed to watch me until I was adopted, but they lied.

They always lie. Even you, Minho.

In third grade, nobody wanted to be the charity case's friend. I ate lunch by myself in the classroom while the other kids in my class laughed and played. I wasn't hungry; I never ate at school.

Jisung shut his eyes tightly, focusing on blocking out all the memories which rushed him all at once. All those horrible, horrible things he had to go through just because he was born.

Jisung's hands trembled as he grasped the government-certified papers in his hand. His name was written all over it, along with a bunch of numbers and his adoptive parents's signatures. He was simply a cash grab. He shoved the papers back in the drawer where he found them as he heard his auntie call him from the front door, asking him to help her put away groceries.

He couldn't feel anything anymore. Not the pain that was squeezing at his lungs, not the stinging of his eyes as endless streams of tears poured from them. Not the slightest bit of pain bothered him anymore. He was used to it, and he was silly for ever thinking it'd go away.

Maybe I'm better off gone. I seem to break no matter who I'm around.

And then he was falling. He collapsed once again as his body told him that it had struggled to survive any longer. His face hit the grass; dirt smeared across his cheeks as he lay there, and it began to rain.

End of Chapter 29
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TBC c:authors note 3/4/24: you homewrecker, two timing, cheating, lying, man stealer 🤬🤬🤬

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TBC c:
authors note 3/4/24:
you homewrecker, two timing, cheating, lying, man stealer 🤬🤬🤬

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