Accidents are not accidental

Jisung realized his mistake only when he left the hall. The April evening air was chilling to his bones, penetrating to his brain and making every cell of his body shudder, for he was now standing outside in only a T-shirt. He shivered instantly, wrapped his arms around himself and craned his neck. It was sobering, though: it was no longer stuffy, and he was free to let his own thoughts take over. Minho was invading his life in steep twists and turns. Whoever he was with, wherever he was, it was as if this guy was his natural background and slowly flowed into the foreground. Jisung never told anyone about his plans, except for the recorder, which Minho certainly had no way of listening to, then how does he know... everything? Or doesn't? Jisung smelled a catch, but couldn't figure out where his scent was coming from. He flopped down on the nearest bench, once again shuddering from the cold. Something warm touched his shoulders - it was his own jacket. Slipping his hands into it, the boy exhaled blissfully: his body was filling with warmth. He looked at his fingers red from the cold and shoved them into his pockets, muttering a quiet "thank you". Seungmin crouched down beside him and turned his gaze to the nearest lantern. — I don't know what I did wrong, but.. I thought you'd get cold in just a T-shirt, so I took our stuff and followed you, — the older man smiled tentatively. — It's not you, it's just... I didn't expect it, that's all, — Jisung excused himself, speaking more inside his jacket: he felt bad that he'd put on such a show, and also yelled at his neighbor for nothing. — I didn't realize you two knew each other so well, — Seungmin averted his eyes, his cheeks flushed again. — We barely even know each other! Yes! — he glared at his roommate, trying to convince him otherwise. — We crossed paths a few times outside of uni, that's all. Really. — Okay. Do you want to go home? Even though he wanted to go to the bar where Minho had invited him so cordially, he didn't want to look like a bad friend in Jisung's eyes who would leave him in such a depressed state and run off to flirt with some basketball player. Seungmin never realized what kind of relationship they had after all, but that wasn't the most important thing right now. Han turned towards his neighbor, furrowed his brows, and got up from the bench. His gaze changed, becoming more confident and determined. Squeezing his hand in his pocket, the younger man pulled one out and pointed a finger at Seungmin, causing him to jerk and move to the back of the bench: — No. We're not going home. We're going to go to that bar and you're going to have a normal conversation with him. You like him, right? When else is there gonna be a chance like this? I'll be there in case something goes wrong to get you out of there, — Jisung spoke loudly, took Seungmin by the wrist, forcing him up, and followed the road towards the bar. — Wait! Please, not so fast, — his roommate could barely keep up with the younger man. — Why are you even helping me? — Because we're friends, isn't it obvious, — Han grinned. — Show me the way. And anyway... be brave, because he likes them. Jisung wasn't sure if the two of them were going to make it, but he wanted to help. An idea flashed through his mind: if Lee Minho could find his soulmate in Seungmin, he might be able to get away from him forever. Then it would be a good life for everyone. They reached the sign, but the older man stalled in front of the door again. He let go of Jisung's hand and stared at the door for a moment, trying to summon up the determination that the younger man had. — Hey, — Han put both hands on his friend's shoulders and looked into his eyes, — I'm right here, okay? Don't be afraid of anything. Come on, show him your erudition and attractiveness, or whatever it is that attracts boys these days. — But I don't... — Seungmin didn't have time to say anything before he turned him around and pushed him forcefully inside the room. Jisung walked in next and immediately smelled the tart odor of alcohol. It even made him sick to some degree. Who chooses these joints over decent restaurants? Shouldn't athletes be in favor of healthy lifestyles? The guy didn't know where to go: there were not so many people as in the hall, but still quite a few. Everyone was crowded around the bar, shouting out orders and bets. The overhead TV was loud: it was constantly switching to soccer, baseball, and basketball, and the whole string of sounds was very hard on the ears. They took a table away from the noise, but it was still impossible to escape. Seungmin seemed to have sprouted into the soft upholstery of the couch, shrunk, and looked more like a frightened animal. Jisung was already starting to think that this was a perishing idea. Neither of them had ever visited such places before, so how to behave here was unknown. They had to trust their own instincts. The guy stood up a little, running his eyes through the bar, but he didn't see a single familiar face. — I'll try to find Minho, and you stay here, okay? And don't you try to run away, — the younger man said threateningly, but he quickly turned from anger to mercy when he saw his neighbor shaking with excitement. He got out of his seat and began to squeeze through the crowd, running through each person standing next to him. A few times he even made the mistake of mistaking people who looked like him for Minho. The guy managed to push his way to the bar and looked hopefully into the eyes of the man on the other side of the bar. — Would you like to order something? — Do you know where I can find the «Tiger» team? — Jisung blurted out, once again completely ignoring the counter-question. — Third table from the window, — the bartender grinned, obviously it wasn't the first time someone had looked for those guys, — over there. — Thank you so much. I'll be sure to order something later, — Han said, and walked confidently toward the wide table. Jisung didn't recognize the team. They were all sitting together, each of them holding a bottle, or even more than one. Already clearly tipsy players were laughing loudly, telling each other jokes and encouraging more drinking. After looking around one by one, the younger man still couldn't find Minho, so he had to pull himself together and move closer. He wanted to make things quick, but it looked like Seungmin would have to wait a few more minutes. — Excuse me, — he said to the guy who was around the most. — Do you know where I can find Lee Minho?” — Oops.. He's looking for our handsome guy again. And why is everyone hanging around him? — someone on Jisung's right side growled. — We don't just give up ours. What are you gonna be to him, boy? Passion? — smiled, he think, the captain of the team. — No, we hardly know each other. Just one friend of mine, him.. — Oh, that's rude, Han Jisung. I thought we might be more than just strangers to each other by now. A familiar voice made Jisung eat like he was cold and bite his lip. He should have shown up at this very moment. He turned and glanced at Minho. He, too, had already been quite mad - and he was drawn to put on a suit in such a place. The shirt was unbuttoned with two more unseemly buttons, the sleeves rolled up carelessly, and the tie was loose and just hung around the neck with a noose. Jisung didn't know what the guy was like when he was drunk, so he took a little sideways when Minho took a step forward. — Are you afraid of me? — I'm not. I just don't like drunks, — Jisung said honestly, though his palms were a little sweaty with excitement. — Hmm, — Lee sighed disappointedly, his eyes filled with a sadness that was unbearable, and there was no trace of his earlier sarcasm, — that's the second thing you don't like about me. Is it a coincidence? How can I be? — ... At a loss for an answer, he ran the word «coincidence» over and over in his head. From Minho's mouth, it sounded too ironic and implausible. If this was some kind of game, Jisung was already bored with it. — Seungmin said he'd like to talk to you, he's at the last table on the other side. It's urgent. —... and you? - The older man asked irritably. — What about me? — Will you come? — I'll come, but I'm going to go to the bathroom. — All right, I'll be right there. And that was pure untruth from Jisung's lips. He wasn't going to lie to Minho's face, but that's the way it was. He didn't want to go back to the table, and he didn't see the point of going back to the table - Seungmin needed to figure things out for himself, and Jisung would be an unnecessary presence. But he couldn't leave, either; he'd promised he'd be there if anything happened. Why did they sit so close to the door? If he came out, Minho would notice. And why did he even care about him coming back to the table? Jisung had never seen such a carousel of feelings on the older man's face. Joy, sadness, irritation, and all in a matter of seconds and because of the words he said. When before, just picking out a couple of emotions on Minho's face was almost a real accomplishment. It was probably the alcohol that had that effect on him. It would be nice if it affected his memory as well, so that he would forget what Jisung had promised him. He had to hide in the toilet stall. It was the only working one in the neighborhood, and it was locked, though some couples who wanted privacy didn't even care about that, so Jisung sat on the lowered lid of the toilet for an hour, plugging his ears. How can you moan so loudly in the bathroom?! That's not why people come in here. He slammed the door loudly as he stepped out of the stall, washing his face and neck, trying to wash away the smell of the place, even though it was all in vain. Jisung carefully stepped out into the room and made his way to the table, only there was more bad luck waiting for him. Why did he have such bad luck all the time? Had he spent an hour in the bathroom for nothing to catch... this? Minho was sitting alone on the couch, putting his leg over his foot and rolling a small ice cube around in his mouth. At the sight of Jisung, he perked up, propped his head up with his hand, and stared directly at the younger man, as if demanding an explanation from him. He didn't look as drunk as he had an hour ago, which was certainly not a good sign. In this situation, it would be better for Minho to think less. Seungmin was nowhere to be found, and the boy jerked his head in different directions a few times, trying to find his friend. — We finished about forty minutes ago, if you're looking for Seungmin, — the older man seemed to barely blink and Jisung swallowed involuntarily at the look. — It took you a long time to go to the bathroom. — I didn't feel good. To be honest, he felt a lot worse now than he had a few minutes ago. He wish he'd just left. — For an hour? To tell you the truth, I thought you needed help, — Minho squinted at the mechanical watch on his left wrist. — You know what, let's go outside for some air. — I need to find Seungmin, — the younger one kept on, though he sounded less and less confident. — You're such a...! - Lee rolled his eyes, stood up loudly and headed for the exit, beckoning the boy to follow him. — Come with me and I'll tell you where he is. They stepped out the back door onto the porch. Minho immediately landed on the steps, pulled his cigarettes from his jacket pocket, and took a tired puff. Jisung stood impatiently by the door. He was worried about his friend, and he didn't want to be alone with the older man once again, no matter what he might do this time. If he didn't give him a reason to be suspicious, or even play along, there was a chance to find out what he might be hiding. But it was still freezing cold, and Jisung was out in a T-shirt again. Minho wouldn't let him go inside, and the younger man wouldn't miss a chance to escape. So he'll have to be cold. — What is it? Where is he? — the boy stood with his arms wrapped around himself again, shifting from foot to foot. — What's your hurry, sit down, — Lee took another puff and patted the seat next to him. — Sit down, I said. He repeated it in a commanding tone, and Jisung had no choice but to obey. He sat down next to Minho, but still a little farther away. I guess if something had happened to Seungmin, the older man wouldn't have been so careless. They were classmates after all. — You're trembling. Are you that scared of me? — Minho offered Jisung a cigarette, but he refused. — It's not you, — he said for the second time that night. The older man only now noticed that he was wearing a T-shirt, showing that he wasn't cold at all. He smirked, tapped himself on the forehead, took off his jacket, and threw it over his shoulders. He was a little taken aback, but he didn't refuse — he'd earned the warmth he'd gotten while he'd been sitting on that porch. The boy wrapped himself more warmly in the stranger's thing and sighed heavily. How long was Minho going to torture him like this? Until the break of dawn? — Let's have a chat. This all reminds me of the day you fell asleep on my shoulder, — he put out his cigarette on the steps and tossed the butt into the trash. — You're gonna remind me of that for the rest of my life? — It would be nice to be reminded of it for the rest of my life. — You're talking nonsense... — Jisung turned away and stared dumbly at the nearest bush, avoiding anyone's gaze. — So are you. — When have I ever said anything like that?! — he turned to the boy again, meeting his gaze. Minho sat with a familiar grin on his lips, rubbing ash between his fingers. Jisung wanted to ask him about his conversation with Seungmin, but he didn't know how to bring their dialog to that topic. He didn't want to ask the older man about it, but it was closer in time than if he waited for his neighbor to tell him. — You said you didn't like sports, but you came to my game. Then you said you didn't like drunks, but you stayed at this party anyway. Weird, don't you think? — he raised his eyes to the sky, looked at it briefly, and closed them. — Don't give yourself too much credit! I came because Seungmin begged me to. In fact, if I had known you were going to be there, I would never have gone, — the younger one cut him off. He didn't want to offend Minho, but he was asking for his stupid grin to be wiped off his face once. And Jisung didn't miss the opportunity. The older man clearly wanted something from him, so let him say it all at once instead of making him sit on the dirty steps at night. He stared fixedly at the other man's face. Minho didn't give away the fact that he didn't like what the younger man had said, but his eyebrow twitched inadvertently. — I see. — But... I liked the game, you were really cool, — Jisung tried to smooth out the invisible corners, but it seemed to be a failed attempt. Lee's smirk never appeared back. — Uh-huh. About Seungmin, he was talking out of turn a lot, I hardly listened to him. Anyway, I figured he's a fan of our team, so I introduced him to the other guys, — Minho seemed no longer interested in talking to Jisung, and he noticed it and got up from the steps, shaking off his pants. You had to be such a retard! Even Jisung realized from the first time he saw him that Seungmin wasn't a fan of the team at all, but of Lee Minho. He's a real jerk. And he's no match for him at all. — You know, it's a shame you guys are classmates. I'd advise him not to hang out with you. — And why is that? You think I'm gonna break his baby heart? You want to ask me how I know? Everyone knows! Seungmin isn't the white sheep you think he is. He can't decide who he likes best, so he keeps pestering me with his crush. He has a new favorite every two weeks. In a few days, he'll be talking about Park Ji Kang from the music club! - Lee himself stood up as he spoke and leaned on the railing. The guy was really pissing him off, and he just wanted to have a quiet conversation. Jisung's jaw almost dropped at that statement. There was no point in Minho lying about it, but Jisung didn't want to believe the truth so easily either. He knows Seungmin better than some athlete who would give his last dime for a puff. But Minho, on the other hand, had known his neighbor for about five years. — How can you say that? What if he really fell in love with a jerk like you? You know, you don't deserve him, though. He's totally wrong for you, — Jisung blurted out, probably regretting all the barbs he'd said this evening, but that would come later. — Yeah? Well, who do you think is right for me? How about you? — Minho grabbed Jisung by the throat and nailed him to the nearest wall. — You've been slinging mud at me all night and you think I'm gonna stand for it? Watch your eyes! You're the only one acting like I shit in your slippers. What have I done to you that you hate me so much?! — But you made me come here, I didn't want to go anywhere with you. Or did you want me to thank you? Why are you so attached to me? — the boy tried to break free from the tight grip and looked angrily at the older man. Minho shrieked and continued to squeeze Jisung's throat with a force that took his breath away. This time, the younger man was scared out of his wits. Then everything happened by itself. There was a distinct blow, and the older man's head flew off to the side, and he immediately let go of the hand he had been holding Jisung with. The blow came right on the jaw and sobered them both. The boy's hand burned like a wild fire, and he squeezed it with a low hiss. Minho continued to stand motionless, he didn't even turn his head, only sighed quietly, and the white fist mark on his cheek was gradually getting redder and redder. Lee's words echoed in time with the vein swelling in his temple. Jisung had said a lot of things he shouldn't have. He was mad at the guy, but what was the reason? The fact that he just happened to catch his eye all the time? Should one hate a person for that? The guy was completely confused about how he felt, all he knew was that right now he had to leave. This was all clearly some big misunderstanding, but it was too late to decide anything. Jisung had hit Minho - and there was no way to change that anymore — I'm leaving, — the younger man said and walked back inside without even turning around. He left Minho like that right there and didn't even apologize. He'd just hit him, wasn't that out of line? But Lee started it first, and the whole thing could have been avoided if he hadn't come at him like that! No, it's just... he shouldn't have said all those words. Right now, he should just take Seungmin and get the hell out of this shithole. He would definitely think about it tomorrow, fresh in his mind, but right now, he needed to leave quickly. He couldn't stand another minute in this bar. The recorder was already at the ready, and squeezing through the crowd, he started recording: — Recording 307, it was a complete failure...