Oh God, you're coming up to me. Don't react. Don't react.
Do not show fear.
"Han! How are you?" Minho asked me, resting his elbow on my shoulder. "Can I just say that you did an amazing job planning all of this? You've really outdone yourself this time. This is the best company dinner we've ever had and it's all thanks to you."
"It's my job," I said, completely and utterly bitter about the events of the day previous.
Fuck, you can't know I'm upset with you.
"I'm good, by the way. Thanks for asking. How are you, dear? How's therapy treating you?" I asked him, trying my best to come off as personable as possible.
"That's a very strange question to be asking in public, don't you think?" Minho asked. "I'll answer, but I have to ask."
"There's nothing shameful about going to therapy," I said to him, dumbfounded. "I'd go back to therapy if I could afford it but I can hardly afford to live in my apartment alone, I'm considering getting roommates."
"I can pay for it, you know," Minho offered. "It's no big deal."
I laughed, "No, I'm not taking your money. I feel bad enough about the car you gave me."
"You're still on about that?" Minho rolled his eyes. "I told you it wasn't a problem."
"Yeah, I know you did," I said to him. "That's not what matters to me, though."
Minho removed his elbow from my shoulder and turned to face me, "What matters to you?"
Don't look at me like that.
"My integrity," I chuckled.
"How is your integrity affected by getting a free car?" Minho asked me, baffled.
"Just like how you can't answer the question about how therapy is in front of all of these people, I can't answer that here either," I said to him bluntly.
"Okay, now you've got me curious. Let's go outside, shall we?" Minho asked me.
I nodded my head and we exited the banquet hall and walked down the steps, our hands brushing against one another's on multiple occasions. It would've been romantic had I not been so angry about seeing what I saw.
We sat down next to each other on a bench placed not far from the entrance in silence for a moment before Minho spoke up, "So, are you going to tell me?"
"Answer my question first," I said, not looking at him as I spoke.
"Therapy's fine, I've been learning new ways to cope with my shit," Minho shrugged, now speaking informally as we were away from the general public.
"I told you it'd be good for you," I said to him, crossing my arms and slouching in my spot.
"It's your turn now," Minho said, "Why is the car such a problem to you?"
"I don't like taking free shit. I've worked for every single goddamn thing I have and I don't need some hot rich guy to swoop in and fix my life for me. I can do that shit on my own just like I have been for the past seventeen years since my family died," I spoke, rather bluntly. "I don't need you, I really don't. And honestly? I'm still incredibly offended that you tried to quote unquote buy me back knowing full-well who I am as a person."
"I...hadn't thought about it like that," Minho mumbled.
"Yeah, of course you didn't. I get that you didn't grow up rich but you have the mindset of someone that does," I said to him. "I know you don't mean any harm by trying to offer me your money but I don't want it, I can promise you I don't. I don't know if you're trying to test me by offering me things so you can see if I'm a leech like the majority of people in your life but I am not the one, I can tell you that right fucking now."
"There's the Han I've come to know and love," Minho said to me with a smirk.
I cringed at him, "What the fuck is that even supposed to mean? God, I don't fucking understand you. You're so cryptic and vague all of the time. At first it was charming but now I'm beginning to realize that I don't know you at all."
Minho's expression changed to something unreadable, "Han, you do know me. Don't say that."
"Why'd you give me the car, Mr. Lee?" I asked him, looking over at him with a grimace.
"I can't tell you that," Minho said, scratching the back of his head. "Sorry."
"What's that supposed to mean?" I scoffed.
"Someday, I'll tell you, but now's not the time. Believe me," Minho said to me, his tone unwavering and assertive. "I'm changing the topic, I'm not explaining myself right now."
"And what's our next topic, Mr. Lee?" I asked, only slightly mocking him.
I love our banter, Minho. You drive me crazy.
"If you could not mock me right now, that'd be greatly appreciated because this is actually something kind of serious," Minho said to me, lowering his voice.
My expression completely changed and I put my hand on his arm, "What is it? Are you okay?"
"Something...weird...happened to me yesterday," Minho said. "I honestly don't know if I should say anything because I might sound crazy."
"Just tell me, it's okay. I'm here for you," I said to him, rubbing my hand up and down his arm.
"I came home yesterday and after I showered, I realized that something was off in my bedroom," Minho began, "I don't know how to explain what it was I felt but something felt off. It felt like someone had been there while I was gone."
Oh no.
Oh no.
Fuck me.
"What, like a stalker?" I asked him. "Oh my God, are you okay?"
"It wouldn't be the first one I've had but it's the first that's taken a pair of my underwear," Minho chuckled to himself. "I only noticed because they're my favorite pair and I did my laundry the night before."
Think fast.
"I have a theory," I said, "You might not like it, though."
"A theory is a theory, why wouldn't I like it?" Minho smiled at me.
"Because it's about your best friend," I said to him, removing my hand from his arm.
"Aren't you my best friend?"
I playfully shoved him, "Shut up, you know what I mean."
"Let's hear it, seriously. It sounds like you've got something cooking," Minho said, rubbing his hands together.
"This might sound like the craziest thing you've ever heard, but hear me out, okay?"
"Okay."
"Ever since your suicide attempt, Chan's been fucking weird. Am I right or am I right?"
"Yeah, you definitely are," Minho chuckled.
"What if this is his way of trying to separate us?" I asked him. "I know how crazy it soun-,"
Minho cut me off, "Actually, that makes a bit of sense. I know he's been two-faced to the both of us but if your theory is true, why underwear?"
"What would a stalker take if they were in love with someone?" I asked him rhetorically. "I think he's trying to make it look like it's me."
I can't believe I just said that.
That actually came out of my mouth.
Wow.
Minho's eyes widened, "Oh my God, I think you're right. He knows those are my favorite pair, too."
Well, I certainly didn't.
"Rest in peace to those underwear," I joked, then patting his back and standing up. "Look, I'm not saying this is true or untrue, it's just a theory. I need to go inside to make sure your event is running smoothly but if it makes you feel safer, I can spend the night at your house after this?"
"Yeah, I think it would, actually," Minho smiled at me.
I waved him off before spinning on my heel and strutting gait back to the entrance of the venue I'd hand-selected.
I've officially hit rock-bottom.