oblivion ; minsung

"by a kiss"

as life and death loathed each other so
yearned to inflict pain
to fan the flames of hatred
satisfaction would elude them
a prison of reincarnation
a new shell every generation
as far as time pushed on

──

The last time Jisung was here at the Lee mansion, he and his guitar were sequestered on stage, out of the fray. It was easier, in a way. Now he's in the rose garden, on equal footing with the people who normally walk past him on the street without a glance. His nervousness is bone-deep, but the more time he spends sitting under an arch of flowers with Minho, trading bullshit palm readings to make each other laugh, the more he can feel himself relax.

"Ah, I see..." Minho is squinting down at Jisung's palm. "There are good things in your future."

"What kind of good things?"

"Prosperity. Music. An incredibly handsome man. Oh so handsome, who's this guy?"

Jisung buries a smile. "I must not have met him yet."

"On second thought, I see no good things in your future."

Jisung laughs and shoves his shoulder.

It's later in the afternoon when Minho looks past Jisung and some of the playfulness fades from his face. Jisung follows his eyes. Mr. and Mrs. Lee are standing in front of a bed of roses, talking to a photographer. Sooyun and her date are joining them, along with Haewon and her husband.

"It's tradition," Minho says. "All those photos, they're from the garden party."

Jisung thinks back to the staircase, the pictures of Minho with his cold eyes and aloof smile, arms around a different girl every year. Jisung wants to make it onto the wall too. Maybe it will make Minho smile. Maybe Minho will think of Jisung every time he sees it.

"We don't have to join this year if you don't want to," Minho says. "We can sneak away, avoid the whole thing, take a walk in the forest."

"No, I want to. As long as you do."

Minho gets up, offering Jisung his hand. He takes it and they walk over to the rest of the family. Hara is finally calm, bouncing in her mother's arms. Mrs. Lee is fussing with her husband's tie. Minho's sisters line up — uniform, like soldiers — with their partners' arms around their middles. Jisung and Minho decide just to hold hands.

The photographer gives a few orders — girls suck in, men puff out — and then keys up to take the picture. Jisung smiles widely. Hopefully he can get a copy of the photo. Nini will want to see this shit.

"Stop." It's Minho's father. "Excuse me, Mr. Chae, give me one second."

Mr. Lee breaks formation, walks over to Minho and whispers in his ear. Minho's grip on Jisung's hand tightens.

"Why?" he murmurs.

His father's face is calm and hard. He hasn't looked at Jisung once. "Minho. Do it."

"No, why? Tell me why, say it."

"Don't be stupid, do as I tell you."

"He's my date — he has every right to be here!"

Jisung feels it land in the pit of his stomach. This is about him. Of course it is. By now some of the guests have sensed the argument and started watching. The family's eyes are turned away. Even Haewon and Sooyun. Hara has begun to cry again.

"Minho, don't make a scene," Mrs. Lee says. Her voice is sharp but there's a friendly smile on her painted lips.

"Bullshit," Minho says, breathless like the wind has been knocked out of him. "This is bullshit, both of you, you're just—"