Say My Name | A Minsung Fan-Fiction

chapter forty-two

"Why couldn't you have just picked them up from the airport?"

"I haven't seen them in eight years, I don't think the airport is the best place to be seeing them for the first time," I said, peeking out Minho's front room window in search of my adoptive parent's Uber.

"What, and this is better? How are you going to explain where they're staying before you tell them it's not technically your house and that you're living with your boyfriend?" Minho asked me with a dirty look.

"I don't know! Don't ask me questions!" I exclaimed, backing away from the window and recollecting myself. "Okay, this is fine. You're fine, I'm fine. This isn't the end of the world."

"Yeah, exactly. So why are you still pacing?"

"It's been eight years since I've seen these people and I'm about to shit myself, that's why!" I exclaimed. "God, sorry. I'm so nervous."

Minho walked over to me and took my face in his hands, "Baby, it's okay. You can do this. Remember what we're doing this for. Maybe this'll be good for you, too.

"Yes, you're right. We thrive off spite," I took a deep breath. "Wait, is that a good thing?"

"I never said it was, I'm just reminding you what the goal is," Minho let go of me, then shrugging.

I playfully slapped his arm, "Come on."

"One day there's going to be a long conversation about this but that day is not today, look outside," Minho said with a pointed finger.

I looked outside, "Oh God, okay. Just come out there with me and help me with their shit, we can deal with introductions after."

Minho grabbed my hand and held it, "Hey, it's okay. You've got this."

Minho held my hand until we got to the front door and I let go of him, unlocking and opening the door. I walked out first, finding myself to be dashing to their car as opposed to a casual walk.

Maybe this will be good for me, I seem to miss them much more than I thought I did anyway.

"Ibubapa!" (Combination of mother 'ibu' and father 'bapa.')

I've literally never called them this in my life but I feel like I owe them this after having left without a word.

"Jisung, Jisung, come here!" I heard my adoptive mother call out for me, dropping the bags she had in her hands when I ran up to her with an embrace.

Okay, maybe I'm laying it on a bit too hard.

"How was the flight?" I asked her with a warm smile, watching behind her back as Minho began helping my adoptive father with their bags.

"It was good." She took my face in her hands, "Honey, I never thought I'd see you again. We've missed you so much."

"Jangan risau tentang itu, what matters is that you're here!" I picked up some of the bags she'd dropped, "Come on, I'll help you with your things." (Don't worry about that.)

Minho and I carried my adoptive parent's things inside and offered to take their things up to the guest bedroom they'd be staying in for when. When we came back up the stairs, I approached my adoptive father and hugged him tightly, trying to push the feeling of resentment towards them down as I did so. In order to avoid any small talk that I was about to attempt, Minho offered the two of them a drink in the den and a chance to relax. Giving me the time to take a breath, he requested that I grab the drinks.

I made my way out to the kitchen and put both hands down on the island table, looking straight forward as I took a deep breath. I took the time to recollect myself and then made my way to his basement. I searched for one of his fancy rich people pinots and grabbed the first one I found, rolling my eyes as I trudged back upstairs.

Minho, I love you, but this lifestyle will never be for me.

I made it back up the stairs and grabbed four wine glasses, regaining my amour propre and walking to the den with my head held high.

Why'd I agree to do this again?

Oh, yeah, to see the look on their faces when I tell them I'm in a relationship with a man.

That's funny.

"Hey, hi, I'm back," I said to the three of them with a pep in my step, setting the wine and the glasses down on the coffee table separating where Minho and I were now seated and where my adoptive parents were.

"Jisung, you have no idea how good it feels to see your face," My adoptive father said to me. "Your friend here was just telling us about how you were just published as the cover of a magazine. We are so proud of how far you've come."

"We never should've doubted you, really," My adoptive mother said. "We've taken a lot of time to think about this and we realized that you were right in leaving. We underestimated you and that's our fault."

Why is this going better than I thought it would?

"That means a lot, honestly. I wasn't sure if you guys were ever going to come around, you were so stubborn growing up. If we're being completely honest here, I can't apologize for not feeling like you guys are my parents. Calling you names like 'mom' and 'dad' doesn't feel right when I know that in another universe my parents are still alive. What I can say is that you guys are special to me in a different way that I wasn't capable of realizing at the time. You're the people who took me in when I was suffering, you're beyond parents. It doesn't matter how we met, you cared for me when nobody else wanted to. You wanted to adopt an older child to understand them better and to hear their hearts. That goes beyond any describable relationship."

"That means so much to us, Jisung. You can just call us Nayla and Hatar, it's alright," Nayla said to me.

"Thank you. I've noticed that your guys' English has gotten better, cheers to that."

"Eight years is a long time and you don't have any kind of accent whatsoever. Neither does your friend," Hatar commented, taking a sip of the wine he'd been courteously poured by Minho amidst our conversation. "I've noticed that you two have barely looked at one another this entire time and yet you're close enough to be living with one another, care to explain?"

Minho and I looked at each other for the first time since I'd entered the room and as if we were able to communicate telepathically, I got the indication that now was the time for me to come clean.

"He's my boyfriend."

"Well, of course he's your boy friend. How long have you guys been friends for? You two don't seem to be very friendly with one another," Nayla said.

"That's because we're not friends, we're in a relationship," I said condescendingly, nodding my head slowly.

"Oh, well why didn't you just say that?" Nayla asked me bluntly.

What?

"You guys are like two kids on the playground that won't admit you have a crush on each other, that's adorable," Hatar smiled.

This is going way better than I thought..

"Did Minho tell you what he does for a living?" I asked the two of them.

"No, but he seems very modest considering how this is his home," Nayla said to me.

I turned my head over to him, "You told them it was your place?"

"I figured I might as well just get it out of the way so you didn't have to," Minho said, putting an arm around me and moving closer. "One less thing to worry about, right?"

"Right," I said, gazing into his eyes.

As I'm sitting here listening to the conversation that's continued without me, it's dawned on me that I don't need this. I don't need my adoptive family to feel whole again. This doesn't make me feel content, being here Nayla and Hatar. What makes me content is sitting next to me, not across from me.

I don't see them, Minho. I see you. You were right when you said you can choose your family. You are my family. This is it. We don't need anyone else.