Chapter Text
April 12, 2014
“It’s not the first time you made a mess, Minho. Last time was scratching and punching another kid, and now you started a food fight.” said the woman in her late 40s with brunette hair and bold red lipstick whilst clicking her fancy gold striped pen that was worth the price of eternity stock of razor sharp blade. “Not the kind of misbehavior decline we were expecting, to be honest.” No malicious intent behind her tone, the raven haired boy seems comfortable putting a full attention to the clicking pen that unfortunately stopped the moment Mrs. Weatherwood stared into him, expecting answers.
“I wish I'm allowed to be honest too.” the pale and slick haired boy answered, side-eyeing the adult at his right, turns out to be his father who, by the way, has no tiniest bit of comfort towards his own blood– making the boy continue his words. “My parents always said, dignity is something you should always protect. What kind of a person am I letting other kids make mean assumptions that my food smelled like horse’s shit and I will get worms in my stomach if I eat it?” Kick him out of his school, write other racist words through his textbook or locker, come what may, because at the moment, Minho does not care anymore. His mother woke up at 5 a.m. to prepare his lunchbox because of his weak digestion, working too hard to get accustomed to whatever diversity of artificiality that was put in every American's food at the supermarket. He will never let anyone disrespect his family even though his parents were not his favorite person either.
Before any comments were made by the adults in the room, there’s a knock to the headmaster’s office that immediately catches all the attention. “I’m so sorry to disturb the discussion, Mrs. Weatherwood, Mr. and Mrs. Park. However, the parents of Bill Mackel has arrived. Would you like me to send them in now?” Mr. Rowand politely asked permission, only opening a little bit of distance from the door, showing his reluctance. His apprehensiveness washed away in an instant after Mrs. Weatherwood gave a smile and permission to the request. “Alright, Bill and Mrs. Mackel, you may take a seat beside Park’s family.” He pointed to the chair in questions, and left after giving polite remarks.
Minho letting out a snort, felt the need to give out an expression regarding the presence of another boy–which slipped away from the judgement of each adult in the matters. “Hello Mrs. Mackel, I apologize for the inconvenience this afternoon, however I feel the requirement of us meeting as soon as possible for the best outcome.” After a handshake of the two women, Minho encourages himself to stare at the soft, kind, also tired looking lady with a loose bun and scrub uniform, covered with a lousy jacket. The feeling of winning he felt drowned at the deepest pacific oceans, replaced by a feeling of overflowing guilt. How does a lovely and hardworking look alike lady conceived such a shit face boy?
“Hello Mrs. Weatherwood. The fault is on me and my son. I'm so sorry, I had to wait until another person could cover my shift but I came as fast as I could.” Playing nervously of her finger, she begins to realize other important figures and the room, meeting Minho’s for a second, until fully showing regret to both of his parents. “Hello, I’m so sorry we have to meet in unfortunate situations. I have been busy and it turns out Billy wasn’t on his best behavior either.” relieved because both of his parents accepted the offered handshake from Mrs. Mackel, Minho smiled a little to her, glared slightly to Billy that kept hanging his head.
Giving back the authority to the headmaster, the situation healed from the recent distractions. Minho wasn’t really paying attention to the wise chanting from Mrs. Weatherwood merely because he knew that in the end, both of them will end up apologizing and forgiving each other. Glorifying the ‘I’m so sorry for what I have done’, and the reply will be ‘I’m sorry too, i could’ve reacted better’, and as a matter of fact, did happen to the last fight he had with Michael–or Mike, as people would call him. Funny how Mike just disappeared from Minho’s sight after the same meeting as right now– was apologizing indeed the bane of every stupid face's existence? Minho would become immortal if that’s the case.
“It’s all my fault, I'm sorry. I have learned from my mistake and realize that is a bad thing to do.” The raven haired boy did not realize how much of conversation he missed, but a sad honest apology from Bill was not the eight wonder he wished to exist. Maybe he would consider believing in alien parasites that are slowly taking over the world because really, what the hell is happening? Was he dreaming? Because not only did he sacrifice a whole peaceful lunch, he also wished that Bill is a superb villain hence he won’t find the urge to feel bad. Before he stopped the crease on his forehead, it even became more prominent because the boy chose to continue while turning his body fully to Minho, “I didn’t mean what I say about your food. It’s just, my mom used to make me lunch too, before she became busy. I’m sorry, my mom has nothing to do with this.” Hell, Minho would pay subscriptions to any channel that contains this kind of soap opera level of drama. It’s not the first time he encountered the kind of manipulations of a 10th year old. Raised in a strict household requires a degree of guilt trip to face his parents and special situations.
Missing a lunch made by mommy? As if that mouth did not just release a bunch of profanity a satanic cult couldn’t even handle.
That fake confession made the whole room gasp, even now his mother is holding Mrs. Mackel's shoulders are tight as a silent support of her situation. Another conversations rolling in, mainly regarding the explanations from Mrs. Mackel, that after the divorce, there has been a few chaotic situations, including Bill staying on schedule, work divisions, and mainly extra shifts that Ms. Mackel has to take because the custody lay upon her. Well considering the absence of the father right now, he can conclude that the judges did not make decisions out of boredom because of the wealthiness he already got. Despite his skepticism, Minho still tried to read the room, adjusting to the tone of this discussion.
No one really wants a brat and know-it-all personality. He just masks his reaction and looks at his parents once in a while, calculating their reactions. His mother is fully trapped, simply because she’s an empath, and father looks like he’s a recruiter and currently interviewing an intern. Great, he’s going to wash his tongue thoroughly after being forced to apologize too in this session. Apple juice would be great. Or maybe cotton candy ice cream? Is he actually consumed by the American dream? Well this 10th year old deserves some treat after fighting for his dignity.
The discussion continued from the tears jerker story of Mackel family to the quiet full of consideration response from his father. Really. Minho could bet that what Ms. Mackel earn as a single mother is still bigger than what both his parents fight for the past 8 years after moving to California, opening a dumpling resto. Not to mention the child labor rights they choose to ignore every weekend, in order to get extra hands from their first child. Maybe once Nara older, she will also become a child labor victim. Better than being recruited by a Korean agency to become an idol right?
“Alright, it seems like we have come to a conclusion that things have been rough for Bill, and Minho’s bad traits have something to do with the way he reacts. Maybe we could end this with consolidations between the kids?” Mrs. Weatherwood stood up, pushed her chair, and walked from behind her desk, halted close to the door facing all the complicit figures. “Bill and Minho, will you stand up, apologize to one another and shake each other’s hand?” with the sweetest tone, the headmaster uttering something so toxic, Minho almost pukes at the bullshit. As long as this boy will also disappear, following Mike’s curse, so be it.
After standing face to face, Bill’s the first to open his mouth, “I’m sorry Minho. It won’t happen again.” With the help of the devil, Bill somehow could give him an honest pure smile, and without any hesitations, Minho also gave him a smile, showing his dimples.
“It’s alright. I’m sorry for what happened to you at home.” Not stopping there, Minho came towards the other boy, and gave him a crushing bone hug, releasing a smile from all the adults in the room. He could feel Bill shakingly exhale, and return the hug with the same amount of energy. The sound of heaven playing slowly, maybe god looks at him proudly at the moment, the same as his ancestors who might fight in a great war of the century, tried to build up the meaning of suffering and humanity at the same time. After a few seconds, Minho loosened up the pressure, before he let go entirely, Minho got close to the other boy’s ear to whisper something only both of them and a great power of nature could hear. “Eat shit.”
On the way home, Eomma keeps muttering about how hard it is to survive in the big city, and gives many appreciations to Bill’s mother for her resilience. Appa just gives a hum, and balances the opinion of her wife by saying that a child will always be a responsibility to their parents, no need to deny the recklessness on the parent’s side. To be fair, even as a child, Minho still finds it hard to justify that kid’s behavior. Doesn’t matter really, he is still in no age to become mature, he has time to keep on beefing with people his age. Minho kept licking the melting ice cream and left the cone for last.
Getting out of the car that was still in the installment, Minho and his parents were distracted by the moving truck across their house. In such a little and kind of shady neighborhood, Minho wasn’t really sure what kind of family full of consciousness would choose to move here. His family was always an exception in any inequality and questionable system, however they did not look like a person that treated rice as their main source of energy. He sees a boy his age, with brunette hair, holding a soccer ball in his left hand, having no intentions on helping the moving process. Clearing his hand from the residue of ice cream on the side of his shirt, Minho ran towards the moving family, followed by his parents. Who do people think they get curious traits from? His parents always prioritize socializing and greeting potential society–in this case, a new neighbor.
Seeming to notice a running sound, the brunette boy turned his body to the source of sound, that’s when both dark green and deep brown eyes met. Minho inspected the other boy’s face, a few moles across his face, long curly eyelashes, and slightly chubbier but stronger build than him. “Hey.” Minho started the greetings, while waving awkwardly, he could tell that his eyes turned into a crescent moon because of the grin. It’s been hard finding a friend to play with in this neighborhood. Most of them are elderly couples, or men with temperamental problems, honorable mentions to the owner of noisy, scary massive dogs. His first impression was he’s 80% sure that there’s a 100% chance drug dealers staying in there. Indirectly, he just saved another boy's impressions of this neighborhood by proving peers' existence to him right?
The brunette’s eyebrows raised a bit, seems to prove the former skepticism that Minho used to feel towards this environment, “Oh hey, wait– you live across the street?” He seems to stare alternately to his face and behind his shoulder, where his parents are also approaching the other adults–a lady with the same hair as the boy in front of him, and then joined by a man, slightly older than his father because of the graying and thin hair. “I thought only people with dangerous tattoos lived here.” Minho chuckles at the statement, oh, how he hoped he was also saved by a boy his age when he first realized the kind of environment he lived in.
“True, watch out where you breath though, I think many drug dealers were found dead hence the coke was flying out free. Explain the weird neighborhood.” he whispers, acting apprehensive, looking around as if analyzing the circumstance. “The last time I found a police patrol was three months ago. There’s still time if you want to act as if the house is haunted, making up stories and all. Unfortunately the only thing that scared my parents was the high mortgage.” Minho turned his tone into a more relaxed one after getting a massive laugh from the brunette, gaining attention from the adult who also had fun conversations.
After looking around waiting for the laugh to tone down, the brunette finally continued the conversation, “God that’s such bullshit. Anyway, I'm Thomas, moving with my sister, Teresa–who is only scared if she doesn’t have the time to curl her hair, and gruncle Vince–who share the same phobia as your parents.” While pointing at the person in question, Minho can’t stop frowning into one unfamiliar phrase.
“Gruncle?”
That created a grin from Thomas, “Great-uncle. I started having that nickname while watching Gravity Falls. He’s my Grandpa’s little brother. And yeah, grandpa’s dead.” Thomas begins to release the soccer ball and takes a distance from Minho. Understanding the gesture, Minho focuses on the ball after it gets kicked by the brunette. After getting a good chemistry and flow, he continued to ask.
“So why the moving?” He kicked the ball more slowly, so both of them could also have a fun conversation. However, Thomas looks doubted and stare at Mr. Vince once a while, with such affection.
Feeling the potential of bonding with the neighbor across the street, Thomas replied, “Gruncle never married or had a family on his own, he’s kind of a genius though, but lazy. He chose to open a gadget service business, having a few regulars and seeing more opportunity in the city. With a little saving, my sister suggested we move so the access is better, she’s a drop out–also a genius, worked with gruncle and created these unbreakable freak bonds.” Minho can’t hide his smile once Thomas tells the stories because of how expressive he is, not showing any embarrassment with his current situations. “Shit– sorry I did not ask for your name. Is it hard to pronounce?” showing more of his eyeballs, Thomas genuinely showed concern and immediately regret what he just said, “I mean–”
“Minho. Minho Park. Relax, Thomas, you’re the best thing in this neighborhood, a little unfamiliarity wouldn’t make me hate you.” With his typical teasing face, Minho responded to Thomas’s stories who chuckled a little showing no more guilt, “Well does that sucks? Leaving your old school and friends?” Called him a king of courtesy with all those stupid obvious questions. Of course it’s not such a favorable situation to move from a place you grew up in. Maybe Minho just wanted another boy’s validation regarding what he felt towards the sudden pursuit of the American dream. Different from him, it looks like Thomas already passed the worst that could ever happen to a kid his age.
Showing a full smile, Thomas elaborated, “Honestly? I don’t care. It’s lame–where I'm from, the soccer team flopped so hard, and my favorite math teacher was arrested because she’s involved in some weird apocalypse cult shit, which lured people to buy a ticket to this safe bunker to survive the sun's explosion or something. She used the money to–”
“Can I guess?” Minho interrupts excitedly, gaining condescending laugh and stare from Thomas, implying that Minho will never get it right, however a playful nod from the brunette gives a green light for him to take his chance, “Marijuana? Weird sexual content subscription? Branded bags or dresses? Oh wait– exotic animals?” he whispered certain dubious words so he would not receive warning glare from his not-too-far away parents. However, his effort was only returned by a flabbergasted Thomas who shook his head, expecting more.
“Really? Most people will start with ‘tried to afford her children’, or ‘paying for her family’s hospital bills’. And yet here you are with crazy conspiratorial ideas.” Using a tone of wise and pious man, Thomas acted wounded by the impurity of Minho’s statement and guesses, receiving disgusted face of Minho, and not stopping there, Thomas completed the whole stupidity that conclude their friendship in the coming future, “But yes your right, it’s the first one.” and an echo of laughter filled the whole neighborhood, even the adult adding a little chuckle and confused head shake, tried to understand the two boys' humor. “I like you Nino.”
Edison Heights, one of counties in the San Francisco Bay Area-will always be his home, but for the first time, he doesn't hate the idea of it.
August, 14th 2018
“Thomas you stupid fuck! I already said it’s not an apple!” Minho has to break the rules of only being allowed to speak ‘Yes’ or ‘No’ throughout the game because of the overflowing rage caused by the uncompromised connection between ‘Tomato’--which was written in the phone in Thomas’s forehead–and fruit. Minho swears to any power in the world that if Thomas thinks tomato is a vegetable, he will revive Thanos and if it’s not Thomas that disappears from the blip, he will.
A frustrated grunt came out from his mouth, while brushing his sweaty temple, Thomas replied as angry as Minho, until his body bounced above the bed they sat comfortably in. “You said it’s a fruit, red, and juicy! When I asked if it’s sweet or not you said no, and you said yes to the sour assumptions! I grew up in America and almost all sweet things came from artificial mutations so deal with me and how is it also not strawberry! They are red! Why it can’t be any of them–fuck!” Thomas ended up throwing that matter of fact– Minho’s phone in between them, and when he saw the words, he fully glaring at Minho, letting a superman laser power go through Minho’s confused body, as he was saying ‘Why don’t you go back to third grade?’
“Nope. I’m done. Nobody cares about tomatoes anyway. This game hates me. The first was already brutal, who knows about a fruit called shampoo duck?” He walks away from the bed, and moves to sit at the tidy white desk full of polaroids of their faces and a few important notes containing the need to finish chapter five of History and take chemistry trial quizzes–which is a reminder that already expired months ago. Minho just exhaled and laughed, and before he could explain, another person came to the room with a plastic bag of take outs.
After he put it down, the two boys immediately cheered like a child screaming for an ice cream truck, and lounged for the food inside it. “All I know is a goat soap, now they have a shampoo duck version too?” The blond seems to hear all the commotions inside his room regarding the failed attempt of ‘Who wants to be a millionaire’. Frowning at the hysterical laughs from Minho, and look of gratefulness from Thomas, the blonde boys can’t help but ask for clarification.
“See Min? It’s not just me. That thing is outlandish.” After pointing out to Minho, Thomas sits comfortably while preparing the food and turns to the blonde that still raises his eyebrows, and wants an explanation. “Shampoo duck turns out to be the name of a fruit that is grown mainly in Southeast Asia. I’m telling you Newt, it’s whimsical.” While chewing the dumplings, Thomas showed Newt the photos of fruit he meant, still shaking his head, quite tired from all the screaming to prove his point to Minho. Newt takes the phone and investigates it closely, getting curious with the unfamiliar thing regarding fruit. With his achievement, Minho looks pleased seeing Newt disappointed with his narrow acknowledgement regarding something– in which Minho seems to always aced better than him.
Feeling his time to be the only civilized man, Minho open his mouth and delay his noodle soup to his rumbling digestion, “First of all, it’s Chempedak, throw your colonizer accent from a local and indigenous nature, it’s similar to jackfruit, however it has more intense scent and taste sweeter. Many people liked it raw, or even deep-fried. I think the intensity matched with Durian.” Seeing the nod and scrunch's nose, Minho feels his explanation is enough to depict for. “Also extra notes, from a country that loved to invade or colonize basically the whole nation, at least tried to read a book and learn their habitats instead of legalizing slavery and acquisition of oil industries all the time. Wait look– another lesson for you two white guys.” His sarcasm received a hurtful thump caused by Newt throwing Thomas’s phone into his chest, also making Thomas scream ‘hey!’ between his intense chewing.
“Coming from the US strongest alliances. Thank you for your service.” With his comeback, Newt smiled satisfied and lay in his stomach along the bed, facing his two best friends who’s excitingly slurping noodles and hot fresh soup. Minho grins and winks to the blond as an appreciative towards the statement, while Thomas acts as if it’s just an oxygen he breathes every second. “Tommy, are you sure about joining the football team? I thought you’re more of a soccer guy.” Said Newt while reaching out for the fried dumpling, and immediately given by Minho, with also a pair of tissues so it’s not too greasy.
Thomas hummed for a while, considering what Newt said about soccer, which is his first love. “Dunno. It’s just the whole school really roots for it you know–and all the trophies along the halls? It’s a big deal.” With his words, Minho begins to reminisce about the victory hall to mark the championship of his school’s history in Football. It's cool really, people actually gain recognition from playing the pride of American sports. Back in Korea, that has never been a thing, same as Thomas, Minho always prefers soccer because it’s more accessible and familiar back there. “What about you Min? Still choosing a soccer team?” Realizing they both grew up playing soccer together, Thomas looks like he needs Minho tendency regarding which sport he ended up choosing.
After washing away the savory broth with cold water, Minho answers, “Never really understand Football, I think I’ll stay with soccer. Also,” He halted his response to let out a burp, showing his appreciation toward the food his mother basically made, and hearing the ‘ugh’ from Newt, and continued, “No one’s gonna forget a Peter Parker wannabe–” before finishing, Thomas already threw another plea.
“Objections! I stayed with those glasses because Newt the one who said I looked like Peter Parker! Be grateful I don't sue you Newt,” The boy in question just laughs with his little chuckles that always scratch Minho’s brain, adorable. He rolled his positions and facing the ceiling, holding his stomach because of the consecutive laughing that wasn’t gonna watered down as long as Thomas kept mumbling regarding the fake validations he believed the whole middle school for three years, until last summer where he gained consciousness and realized how corny he actually looked–triggered by the harsh rejection from Cecillia, the girl Thomas has been fell in love with for 2 years in the junior high school. Not very surprisingly, became his bisexual awakening because that girl announced her transition to men in the graduation party–and Thomas couldn’t like him any better.
Newt is the first to come out as gay in the seventh grade because of the raging crush he had towards a pizza boy that looked like Neil in ‘Dead Poets Society’. Minho and Thomas grew a post traumatic disorder of Pizza because they could order it three to five times a week, until that specific guy officially resigned and never came back. At that moment, both of them feel like a soldier after World War II officially ended. A free man. With a few unhealed trauma.
Meanwhile, Minho says it is such a bother to care about what gender they are supposed to love, but with the Asian household, Minho does not have the freedom and chance to truly explore his sexuality, therefore he stays unlabeled. It is still a big deal for him to represent any of those letters in LGBTQIA+. Although he’s very supportive of two of his best friends and wishes he could be certain of who he liked someday. The love and intimations he gets from Thomas and Newt are already more than enough for him at this moment. The three of them against the world, doesn’t sound so bad.
“Oh poor Thomas Parker, not getting MJ or Gwen Stacy aren’t you–bloody hell,” Tease Newt, accomplishing to finish his echoing laughs, while still struggling to breath steadily. “I did save you from getting lazy eyes though,” Thomas rolled his eyes, feeling like that’s already the most deserving reaction Newt could get after giving him the most embarrassing school era. “Forget what Minho said, he’s just saying that because he is still in his nerd era. Tommy, you already have a few crushes because of that new haircut instead of a boring buzz cut, and Minho could be the hottest guy in school but his soul will never change. Boring than Tommy’s 70th year old Gruncle–which by the way is the coolest person ever.”
Minho frowned and reflected on the most disagreeable face he ever lived, “Excuse me? I have shifts every weekend, and I'm currently tutoring two seniors because they failed at pre-calculus. Imagine, failing at something starts with ‘pre’. I’m saving America from stupidity while serving them freshly good warm dumplings.” His defense getting a laugh and eye rolling from Thomas and a damped scream from Newt that buried his head to his pillow, done with Minho’s aversion towards boring accusation which just proven stronger now.
“That’s why we invite you to an after-school hangout! You tutor on Monday and Wednesday, we can use the rest to have fun, right Tommy?” Without considering Minho’s devotion and support to Thomas, the brunette nod enthusiastically, and if he realizes the betrayals coming from Minho’s stare, he chooses to ignore it and adds to prove Newt’s cases.
“So what if you missed a few beauty sleep? You’re practically already glowing! Oh!” Thomas emptied his noodle bowls, ending it with a burp even bigger than Minho’s, and spontaneously getting his phone to open up the party’s detail, earning a shaking head of rejection from Minho. “Ben’s graduating this year right? He's gonna throw the best party before that. It's an obligation for us.” After typing a bunch of messages to god knows how many people, he turned to Newt who was also stare at Minho expectantly.
"Do I actually own a suffrage?"
Thomas’ face filled with sparkle and rainbows, “Fasten your seatbelt, Ben’s last party here we go!” gaining a painful huff from Minho, Thomas immediately embraced the shoulder of the raven hair boy aggressively, ruffling his hair that seems to be his last straw because then the next second, they're already on the floor, almost knocking all the leftover food and staining the blonde’s carpet. “Shit Min i forgot how big you’re growing, Newt help!” Laugh came from Newt with zero empathy to fulfill the brunette karma session, he rather chanting Minho’s name as if watching MMA’s, satisfied with the inequality of winning chances.
That’s true though, much different than their first encounter, the trio facing a significant effect by the raging hormones. Starting from Thomas, becomes the shortest of the three by an inch, however his face begins to define even more, the kind of dreamy high school boys with his muscled but lean figures, long curly eyelashes, and curtain mell haircut as the cherry on top. Thomas could always get away and deserve to be forgiven from his non-fashionable outfit because of his face card. Flannel and plain hoodies are his blood and oxygen, and even if that's the fact, Newt will still be happy to burn it all.
Newt still with his pretty but sharp features, same type with Thomas’s body but leaner, and always with that little braid at the left side of his shaggy that already grew until his nape. The only significant change in him was the way he dressed, always getting a few warnings from his parents and a few teachers. Like a revelation, Newt agreed to stop wearing trousers that’s less than 5 cm and joined the track teams–which he ended up loved at least before the incident– instead because they have free pass using ‘the most useless pants’– as what his Mum likes to call due to the tightness and little amount of body it could actually cover.
No longer a ‘jumper’ type of boy, Newt grew from his old wardrobe and filled it mostly with pressed t-shirt, oversized long sleeve stripe shirt as an outer–the only part that made it a high school friendly outfit, and many short denims–correction–short and overly short denims.
As for Minho, he becomes a golden-toned skin boy, and gains a significant amount of height and reaches the same air as Newt. His slightly full cheek is decorated by his usual deep dimples, complemented by his soft jawline. His shoulder’s broader and his limbs thicker–with muscle potential– than Thomas. Clean boy was how he always referred, because of his typical half zipper knit sweater. Despite his growing popularity in current sophomore year, he remained the East Asian boy who worked at his parent’s restaurant every weekend or Friday night mostly. That place also became a basecamp for Newt and Thomas doing their homework or basically serving as waitresses to help Minho–also looking for tips, which is also the only way of gaining Mr. And Mrs. Park trust–and getting sleepovers or wonder until dawn afterwards.
In the middle of bickering that could represent Athena and Sparta’s war, Newt's enthusiastic chant toned down as he was admiring the two boy’s bond. He always breathes easily knowing they’re around. Newt begins to question his existence without that moment. Especially the way Minho’s eyes disappeared when he laughed.