answer my call ~ minsung

minho pov

i sit in the practice rooms. and I wait. i wait for him. i feel like he is here with me.

if I'm being honest, my life is empty when he doesn't call me every day. it's been four days with no calls. all I do is sit and wait for a call from him or the hospital, telling me he is awake and better. please. please call me jisung. he has been in hospital for the past 3 days and I miss him. i have never felt this before. i have always loathed him. the way he danced and sung, was always so perfect. i hated him for it. i hated his existence. but now all I want to do is hear his voice. oh shit, the voicemail!! of course!!! i open my phone and start his voicemail I saved. he starts talking and i break down. his voice is broken in between coughs and splutters. the time suggests he recorded this while in the bathroom. i try and hold myself to listen.

"hey minho.

it's jisung.

i know you said you wouldn't pick up my call today but I wish you did. i really wanted to say goodbye in person.

by the time you listen to this, which will probably be a few days after, knowing you, i'll hopefully be dead. i hope.

maybe a voicemail is better, I know it would have killed me to hang up from that call.

i know you hate me all the time, although I'm not sure why. i wish you wouldn't hate me, min.

i have always admired you. and not in a role model way.

i love you minho.

and I wish you would love me back.

and that's the problem. every day I would call you at dance practice to tell you to come by in hopes that you would return my feelings, also so you could protect me. mr kim would beat me. every lesson he would throw me on the ground and call me slurs, for being gay. i couldn't take it anymore. he said he would keep my secret if I kept ours a secret too. i regret it. deeply.

i'm sorry minho. i'm sorry for liking you, for not being enough, for not being strong for you, for not telling you.

and most importantly,

i'm sorry for calling you.

the voicemail stops, leaving the robotic voice of my phone echoing through the piercing silence. my phone falls to the ground and I scramble off the floor to sprint to my car. i have to go see him.

i have to tell him how I feel.

as I drive, my heart fills with anger, regret, sadness and longing. how could I be so oblivious?? to everything?? why didn't I answer his call. if I had answered the call, I might have been able to stop this. all of it. this is all my fault. but I have to go see him, and be with him until he wakes up so I can tell him I like him too and that I will take care of him.

i speed (hopefully I don't get a ticket) to the hospital and race through the doors, asking to see han jisung.

"room 204"
the nurse lady says.

i race down hallways and up stairs to the critical care ward. all of a sudden, lights start flashing, machines start beeping and an unsettling array of hushed words run through the hallway. doctors push past me, walking with purpose.

they all run into room 204.

my heart drops. i race to the doorframe to see jisung lying on the hospital bed, doctors attempting to resuscitate him. they try and try until his heart monitor stops monitoring and the wavy lines go flat. i scream and I cry and I kick, the doctors have to hold me down. all I want is to hold him.

they take him away, leaving me stranded on the floor, tears streaming down my face. his lifeless body rolls past me, his presence slipping through my fingers for one last time. all I want is for my phone to ring and for him to say he is ok.

please call me jisung. please.