Say My Name | A Minsung Fan-Fiction

chapter nineteen

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After having sat on Chan's porch step for well over fifteen minutes, I almost wondered if he was even going to come to the door. He texted me saying he'd be down in a few, but I was beginning to become skeptical.

Perhaps telling not him why I was coming was a bad idea in terms of the probability of him not wanting to open the door, but that wasn't the point. I'll sit here all night if I have to if it means having some peace of mind that Mr. Lee will be okay.

The door creaked open behind me and I gasped, standing up quickly and brushing myself off.

"Hey, sorry about that. You caught me when I was in the shower," Chan laughed, allowing me inside. His home wasn't big but it wasn't small either. It was rather cozy, really.

"You use your phone in the shower?" I asked him, stepping inside and slipping my shoes off out of habit.

"I know it's a bit strange," He said, shaking his head with a smile. "What's up, though?"

We walked into his living room and sat down across from one another, him kicking his legs up on the coffee table without a care in the world.

"I wanted to talk to you about something," I said to him.

"Let's hear it."

"Yesterday, I met up with Mr. Lee and we got in a fight. I quit my job and he tried to tell me I couldn't quit but I did it anyway," I began.

"What happened after that?" Chan asked me concernedly.

"Well, last night, I was staying the night at Felix' place and he kind of just - showed up," I said, shrugging. "He looked like a mess and I felt bad so I heard him out."

"What did he say?" He asked me, raising a brow.

"He offered to buy me back," I said.

"How much did he offer you?" Chan asked me, sitting up in his chair and removing his legs from the table.

"That's the thing - he didn't give me a number estimate. He said anything and you know what that word could mean."

"What did he look like?" Chan asked me, straightening his back in his chair and listening to me attentively. By this point, Chan didn't even look concerned anymore. He looked terrified.

"Disheveled is the best way I can put it. His hair was a mess, his clothes were stained and had holes, his eyes were puffy like he'd cried for days on end, and he smelled terrible. Looked like he'd been dragged through the gutter," I said to him. "I've never seen him like that before. He seemed - unstable."

Chan stood up and began pacing around his living room, "This isn't good. This isn't good at all."

"What do you think is happening to him?" I asked him, settling back on his couch and hugging myself.

Without reacting to me, he pulled his phone out and said to me, "I'm calling him, hold on."

This can't be good.

As the phone rang and rang, I found my stomach to be sinking further and further. Despite everything that's happened, I still care for him more than I do anything else. As much as I don't want him to be, he's the most important person to me.

When the phone rang all the way through, Chan began to hyperventilate and pace more.

"Should I call him?" I asked him, pulling my phone out of my pocket.

"Yes, please do," Chan said. "I need to go find something, hold on."

"Oh god, okay," I said, standing up and opening my phone to my call logs.

I quickly pressed on his number and held the phone up to my ear as it dialed.

Pick up...pick up...please pick up...

When the phone picked up I heard silence on the other end. Frantically, I asked, "Are you there? Please tell me you're there."

I heard a hushed voice on the other side of the line, "Hi."

"Oh my god, I've never been more thankful to hear your voice. Are you there? What's going on?" I asked him, beginning to hyperventilate myself.

Chan ran back down his staircase and over to me, trying his best to not draw attention to himself for Mr. Lee to hear on the other end. If he didn't answer the phone to him, there was a reason.

"I'm happy that you called," I heard him say quietly, his words slurred and groggy.

"Please, tell me what's wrong! Did something happen to you?" I asked him. "Please, say something! Please!"

"Thank you - for everything," He said to me. I put the phone on speaker and turned my sound down so he couldn't hear himself talk by accident.

"Did you take something?" I asked him, the panic only rising in me when I realized what Chan had in his hands.

Naloxolone.

"Just a few Vicodin," He slurred, his words slowed.

Oh, fuck me.

"How many did you take?" I asked him firmly.

"All of them. Goodbye, I love you," He slurred, then ending the call.

All Chan and I could do was look at one another before we both ran out of his house, not bothering to lock the door behind us. We bolted to my car, the two of us hopping inside quickly.

I looked over at Chan, "Should we call the police?"

"No, it'll end up all over the news. We can't do that."