it's all for the best (of course it is) [1/2]

[montellico]

title: it's all for the best (of course it is) [1/2]
pairing(s): 2min (briefly mentioned myungyeol)
rating: pg
wordcount: 5397
summary: Jinki is a journalist investigating the strongly anti-homosexual West Seoul Baptist Church. There he uncovers sordid pasts, dishonest intentions, and life-changing secrets.
a/n: okay. so. This is basically inspired by the infamous Westboro Baptist Church, and the documentary about it by Louis Theroux. I'm not really a religious person, so I'm hoping no one will be offended reading this. Just bear in mind: this is all fanfiction. It's just for fun.
As for the actual fic: Jinki's wife does have a name. It's just a secret lmao.
Title creds: Hide and Seek by Imogen Heap.


Everything looks different from the outside. Jinki knows this, and as a journalist, he also knows how important it is to see things from all possible angles. Usually, it's best to see things from the inside.

He knows this. But he still has difficulty bringing himself to request a two week stay with the West Seoul Baptist Church.

He's heard stories about West Seoul Baptist Church. They've been known to do and say horrible, hateful things to anyone even remotely associated with homosexuals. Jinki's not gay, but he's also not anti-gay, and he's not sure exactly how that's going to sit with the Church members. But he's made his decision. He's going to get the inside story on this place, no matter what it takes.

"Don't let them get to you," his wife tells him as he packs his suitcase. "If you come back here spouting all that bullshit about 'God hates fags,' I'm kicking you out."

"I won't," Jinki promises. "But you wouldn't kick me out."

"I would at least make you sleep on the couch," she insists. "For a week."

"Well, don't worry." Jinki presses a kiss to her forehead. "I'll come back normal, I swear."

She snorts. "You're already not normal."

"But you love me," he reminds her.

She rolls her eyes.

"Yeah, yeah. Get going already, or you'll miss the train."

"It's okay, because I love you more," Jinki continues.

"False," she laughs.

"True," he insists, kissing her pretty lips. "True, true, true."

She tries to protest, but to no avail, and the two of them get so distracted that Jinki nearly does miss his train.

Jinki arrives at the address for the West Seoul Baptist Church and for some reason, the actual church is nowhere to be found. Instead he finds himself facing a block of pretty, extremely clean two-story houses. He picks one arbitrarily and, feeling rather foolish, rings the doorbell.

A fresh-faced, cheerful young man answers right away.

"Oh, you're the journalist," he exclaims, flashing Jinki a bright smile. "I'm Lee Taemin. Nice to meet you!"

"Lee Jinki," Jinki murmurs. "How do you do."

"I'm just great," Taemin says. "But gosh, I guess you don't want to talk to me, do you? I'll take you to the pastor."

"I'm not in any hurry," Jinki says mildly. He peers into the hallway of the house. "Do you live here alone?"

"Yeah," Taemin says, ushering Jinki inside. "You can come in. We can get to the main house from here."

"Are the houses connected or something?" Jinki asks, bemused.

"Not the houses, exactly," Taemin says, leading the way to the back door. "The backyards are, though."

He shows Jinki out to the back, where there's an astounding expanse of pristine lawn. Children are running and laughing as adults look on from shaded porches. There are no clear boundaries, so as far as Jinki can tell the lawn is just one big, communal field.

"It feels like some kind of compound," he murmurs. "I guess privacy isn't such a big thing here."

"We don't need privacy," Taemin says. "We don't fear transparency. We all lead decent lives."

"Surely, there are times, though," Jinki says, "when you'd like some distance?"

"No," Taemin says, smiling. "Everyone who lives here is family. I love my family."

"Of course, but there are other people in the world besides your family. Friends? You've never considered sharing an apartment with a friend?"

"I don't have any friends outside the Church," Taemin says.

"None at all?" Jinki says, raising an eyebrow.

"Shall I show you to the pastor?" Taemin asks. "I'm sure you've got deep, theological questions - "

"I'd like to continue talking to you, actually," Jinki says.

Taemin's smile falters for the first time.

"Alright," he says. "What do you want to know?"

"Well, why don't you have friends?"

"I do," Taemin says. "Sungjong, Chanhee, Byunghun. We're close."

"But they're, what, your brothers?"

"First cousins."

"You have no non-relative friends?"

"Not really."

"How old are you?"

"I'm twenty-one."

"And are you going to school?"

"Yeah. I'm a junior this year."

"What are you studying?"

"I'm going to be a lawyer. It's kind of a Lee family tradition. There are seven lawyers right now."

"Well, good for you," Jinki says encouragingly. "But you don't have any friends at all at college?"

"I have acquaintances," Taemin says with a shrug. "But I wouldn't call them my friends. People at school think I'm a religious freak."

"Why's that?"

"They hear about our pickets." Taemin laughs. "They call me a freak, but I think they're just hiding how scared they are at the fact that they're going to Hell."

"Why are they going to hell?" Jinki asks. He has to admit, the word startles him as it slips from the lips of this innocent-looking youth.

"They sin," Taemin says with relish. "The way they dress, speak, act, live. It condemns them."

"Interesting," Jinki says. He studies Taemin, and Taemin gazes serenely back.

"Do you want to speak to the pastor now?" Taemin asks, almost hopefully.

"I suppose so," Jinki says. "But can I leave my things here?"

"Sure, for now," Taemin says. "Follow me. I'll show you the main house."

They cut a path straight across the lawn, and draw a few odd looks.

"So... only the pastor lives in the main house?" Jinki says, glancing around. "And everyone else lives in these others?"

"No," Taemin says. "The pastor lives on the second floor, and three of his children plus their children live on the first floor."

"Oh. Sounds like a crowded setup," Jinki comments.

"Not really," Taemin says with a shrug. "It's a big house. You'll see. I lived there until I graduated high school, actually."

As it turns out, the main house is huge. Jinki thinks he could probably get lost navigating it alone, because in addition to the first floor, the pastor's children occupy a pretty sizeable underground floor as well. Taemin gives Jinki a brief tour - the living room, the dining room, the rec room, the kitchen - and it's clear that the family has a lot of money, but the whole place is very simply furnished. It reminds Jinki of his parents' old house.

Then they meet one of Taemin's favorite cousins, Sungjong, and Jinki is once again thrown off by how such a nice kid can have such a hateful mindset.

"Nice to meet you," he says. He's very well-groomed, Jinki notices.

"You too," Jinki says. "So you live here? The pastor is your grandfather?"

"Yeah," Sungjong says. "Are you here to see him?"

"I am. Is he around?"

"Yes, but he won't talk to you," Sungjong says, smiling apologetically. "He hates stupid people."

"Pardon?" Jinki stutters.

"What Sungjong is trying to say," Taemin interrupts hurriedly, "is that the pastor is a very busy man and he might not - "

"He also doesn't like journalists," Sungjong says. "But you're a fag-lover, anyone can see, and so he won't talk to you at all. Sorry, but it's the truth."

"That's a bit harsh," Jinki says timidly.

"It's how he is," Sungjong says. "He says all fag-lovers are stupid. He barely even talks to me because apparently my hair is too pretty and verging on faggy." He rolls his eyes. "But whatever. I know fags are terrible, but I know that I'm not one. And he's no fun to talk to anyway. So I don't care."

"You don't care at all that your grandfather won't talk to you? Even though you live in the same house?" Jinki asks softly.

"Why should I care?" Sungjong says. "He has better things to do. And so do I."

Jinki turns to Taemin. "Does he talk to you?"

"I don't see him often," Taemin says, "but we're on good terms."

"Do you really think he'll turn me away?" Jinki asks.

"It's possible," Taemin admits, "but he's not that, that bad. It's worth a shot, anyway."

The pastor does turn Jinki away.

"You think I have time to talk to some fruity journalist?" he barks from his study. "Grow a brain, Taemin, and come back to me when you've gotten rid of that faggy atheist."

"I told you," Sungjong smirks when they return to the downstairs. "He's not the most open-minded of people."

"It's okay," Jinki says, thinking about the irony of that statement; open-mindedness and the West Seoul Baptist Church are two irreconciliable concepts. "Hearing your guys' perspectives is really nice, actually. Would you mind if I just tagged along with one of you for the rest of the day?"

"Well," Taemin says, looking startled, "You can hang out with me, I guess. If you don't mind grocery shopping. I'm running low on ramen."

"That sounds great," Jinki says enthusiastically.

Taemin laughs. "Have I mentioned that you're weird?"

"Now you have," Jinki says cheerfully. "Sungjong, you want to come?"

"I'm good," Sungjong says dryly. "Have fun, you two. Bring me back some chips!"

"Sure thing," Taemin promises. "Come on, Jinki. We'll take my car."

"So you mentioned that you used to live in the main house?" Jinki ventures as they drive off to the supermarket.

"Yeah," Taemin says, his eyes scanning the road ahead of him. He's a cautious driver, Jinki has noticed, always on the lookout for pedestrians and always willing to yield to more aggressive drivers.

"Why did you move out?"

"Well, you know," Taemin says. "Once I started college, I guess they thought it was okay for me to be more independent and everything. Also, that house had just opened up."

"What do you mean, opened up?" Jinki asks.

"So the Church owns the whole block, right?" Taemin says. Jinki hadn't been aware of that, but he nods anyway. "And usually, it's just one family to a house, right? Well, Sungyeol and Hoya - two of my cousins - were in college and they lived in that house together for two years. Sungjong was supposed to move in with them the next year, actually, because by that time he would have entered college. But before that happened, Sungyeol and Hoya both left the Church. And I guess Sungjong was too emotional about the whole thing by that time, so . . ." Taemin shrugs. "I got the house."

"Why was he emotional about it?" Jinki asks curiously. "It's not like those other two died or anything."

"Well, they were his brothers," Taemin says, a crease forming in his brow. "And the way they left wasn't exactly pretty. There's a reason why the pastor doesn't like Sungjong, you know."

"Why's that?"

"Sungyeol and Hoya were both gay," Taemin explains. "They both ran off with other men. I don't know where they went. But they left the church, and now everyone thinks Sungjong's going to follow in their footsteps and do the same."

"Do you think he will?" Jinki asks. There's a long pause, and he wonders if he's gone too far.

"I don't want him to," Taemin finally says quietly. "He's my best friend. And if he does leave, I'll accept God's judgement on him, but I would really like to think that he's not going to Hell with his brothers."

"So you believe that all homosexuals are going to hell, no matter what?"

"Yes. And everyone who supports them. And everyone that goes against the word of God," Taemin says seriously. "That probably includes you. Most people don't take the word of God seriously enough. I've never met a person outside of the Church who's not going to end up in Hell."

"You mentioned this before," Jinki says, frowning. "Do you really think that every single person who's not in the West Seoul Baptist Church is going to hell?"

"Yes," Taemin says.

Jinki is silent for a moment, and he gazes out the window at the dingy shop windows and tired people on the sidewalks. Just the idea that all of them - the chicken vendor, the middle-aged woman with her hair in a messy bun, her three elementary school kids, the old man on the bicycle, the gossiping teenagers - are going to burn down below is such an immensely depressing thought that Jinki can't help but pity Taemin.

"How do you live?" he asks sorrowfully. "How do you live, if you truly believe that?"

"I believe in God's judgements," Taemin says firmly. "He says they're all sinners. So I believe Him."

"But don't you care?" Jinki says, almost pleadingly. "These people are your neighbors! Isn't it in the Bible, that you should love your neighbor?"

"I do," Taemin says. "I love them, and I try to warn them of their fate, so that they might repent and be saved. Do you want to know how my kindness is rewarded?"

"I'm not sure that kindness is the word you're looking for there," Jinki mutters.

"They mock me. They push and shove me. I love them, and they hate me," Taemin says. Nothing in his appearance betrays any emotion behind the words, but Jinki refuses to believe that Taemin is unfeeling.

"Maybe it's the way you show your love that they hate," he says gently. "Maybe telling them that they're going to hell isn't the best thing to do - "

"It's necessary," Taemin says forcefully. The car shudders to a halt in the parking lot of the supermarket. "It's necessary."

"Is it really?" Jinki asks.

"It's how I was raised," Taemin says, turning to face Jinki. "Just like you were raised to be nice and coddle people and be lazy and have lust and all that, I was raised to be the exact opposite. I have my beliefs, my family, my Church. I have God." He smiles. "What more do I need? The rest of the world are just sinners."

"I'm just a sinner?" Jinki asks.

Taemin hesitates only slightly before saying, "Yes, Jinki," his smile never leaving his face.

Jinki stares into Taemin's eyes for a long while before sighing and saying, "Alright, Taemin. Let's go buy some groceries."

Jinki spends the next few days essentially hanging around the Church compound and learning about the lives of its members. He goes to one of the daily masses at the actual church, which, it turns out, is adjoined to the main house, and finds that he can't stand the sermons; so much so that he stops attending after the first one. He uses the time that everyone's at mass to video chat with his wife, who updates him on the status of their son, Yoogeun.

"Honestly, I don't know why you whined so much about taking him for his haircut last time," she says, curling a lock of hair around her finger absently. "It was so easy. He was a complete angel about it."

"I guess he just loves you more," Jinki laughs.

"Probably," she agrees, giggling. "Oh, but he misses you. He misses you a lot. Last night he asked me when you were coming home, and if you would be back in time to read him his bedtime story."

"Oh," Jinki says, his heart swelling with pride, "did he really?"

"Mhmm. And he started crying when I told him you wouldn't."

"Maybe he does love me more."

"Mm," she murmurs, "but not as much as I love you."

"I love you more."

"False."

"True!"

"False," she asserts, and then sighs. "I miss you. God, it's only been three days and I miss you."

"I miss you, too," Jinki says. "I miss you so much. These people are crazy."

"What did you expect?" she asks, looking amused.

"Well. I knew they were crazy, but it's scary because they're also just so human," Jinki explains. "They're normal in so many ways. But then there's this side of them that refuses to listen to reason and mindlessly follows everything the pastor says..."

"They're a cult," his wife says flatly. "Baby, they're a cult. They're not normal."

"I know," Jinki sighs. "But I think that, with time, they could be okay. They could be just fine."

Jinki stays at Taemin's house, but during the day he spends a lot of time with Jonghyun. Jonghyun is, in Jinki's opinion, much easier to be around than the rest of the Church, mainly because he's not a Lee; he was born outside of the Church and only joined a few years ago. Jinki's not sure how to classify Jonghyun exactly, because while the younger man can be friendly and charismatic, he can also be obnoxious and dorky. Nonetheless, he's good company for the most part, and he provides an interesting perspective on life within the Church community.

"So I'm trying to write a song for the talent show," Jonghyun says one day. He and Jinki are sitting in the living room of the house that Jonghyun, along with three other men, occupies. Jonghyun is cross-legged on the floor with his guitar in his lap and a battered notebook by his side. Jinki is watching him from the couch. "But I'm stuck. I think it should be something kind of catchy, but also, you know. It's gotta be safe. Clean. For the Church."

"Right," Jinki says, leaning forward. "Does it have to be specifically religious?"

"I think so," Jonghyun says. "For the three years that I've been here, I've never once seen anyone perform a non-religious song. And I'm the new guy, so I don't want to take any risks."

"Isn't it weird?" Jinki asks. "Being the new guy?"

"It is," Jonghyun affirms, gazing at Jinki seriously, "but I think it'll be good for me in the long run."

"How?" Jinki says. "How can you say that, after growing up in a normal environment?"

"Look," Jonghyun says, lowering his voice and glancing at the doorway, "I know this place is whack. I know it's messed up. I don't actually hate gays."

"Then why - ?"

"I just need to prove to someone that I'm not gay," he continues earnestly. "What better way to say that than living with these nut jobs?"

"Well," Jinki says, "did you try actually saying 'I'm not gay' to this person?"

"I didn't have the chance," Jonghyun says simply. "She rejected me without even listening to what I had to say. And actions speak louder than words, right? So this . . . this will almost definitely tell her that not only am I hot, but I'm also straight." He grins cockily. "And then we'll get married and have babies and everything will be right in the world."

"Wait . . . so this is all about getting with a girl?" Jinki stares at Jonghyun, trying to fully grasp the situation. "Do you even believe in God?"

"No," Jonghyun says at once. "If there were a God, would he allow this place to exist?" He waves a hand at his surroundings. "No way. There's no God."

Jinki isn't quite sure what to say to this.

"If there were a God," Jonghyun goes on, "would my one true love have rejected me? No."

"Well," Jinki hedges.

"And," Jonghyun concludes, "if there were a God, would I be struggling right now to write a stupid song for this stupid talent show? No! So why don't you stop interrogating me and start helping, because I can assure you, there will be no divine intervention between now and Saturday."

"Why is this so important to you?" Jinki asks.

"I'm planning on having my performance taped," Jonghyun explains. "And I'm going to send it to her. I haven't talked to her in three years, but what better way to get back into her life than to send her footage of me singing my heart out?"

"Jonghyun," Jinki says, "I can think of so many ways - "

"Shut up," Jonghyun snaps, "I'm doing this, okay? Are you going to help me or not?"

"I'm no songwriter," Jinki protests.

"But you're a singer."

"No," Jinki laughs. "What are you talking about? You know I'm a journalist."

"But you can sing," Jonghyun presses. "Can't you? I can just tell. Let's hear you sing something. Go."

"I - what?" Jinki splutters.

"Sing something," Jonghyun repeats. "Come on."

"Uh." Jinki clears his throat. "Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you - "

"No," Jonghyun says impatiently, throwing his pencil at Jinki's head. "For real. Here. Repeat after me. My love just can't seem to reach you; just as great as the tears I've cried, there's still so far to go . . ."

Jonghyun's voice is beautiful, lilting and perfectly in tune. Jinki feels silly trying to follow that, but he parrots the ballad back anyway, encouraged by Jonghyun's wide smile.

"I have to forget you, I miss you so much. Even if you never know how much it hurts, I will forget," Jonghyun croons. "Now you."

Jinki sings the lines with more confidence this time, and Jonghyun applauds him when he's done.

"I so told you," he says smugly. "You have an awesome voice."

"Thanks," Jinki says, slightly embarrassed. "But I mean . . . still . . ."

"I have a good idea," Jonghyun says slowly. "Yeah, this might work . . . okay. So there's this song I have. It's kind of . . . I don't know, it's a work in progress. But it'd be really easy to change the words to make it sound religious. From 'my girl' to 'my god,' that kind of thing."

"And . . . you want me to sing with you?" Jinki asks dubiously. "I don't know about that . . ."

"It'll be good, I promise," Jonghyun says.

"What's it called?"

"It doesn't have a name yet," Jonghyun admits. "But I think your voice would just be great for it. We'll be a duet. We're gonna kick ass!"

Jinki isn't so sure, but Jonghyun's so unwaveringly enthusiastic, so full of conviction, that he doesn't really have the heart to refuse him. In any case, Jinki agrees to come by and rehearse whenever he can in the next four days. He spends the rest of the afternoon singing with Jonghyun as they try to figure out the optimal arrangement to suit both of their voices.

"Jinki, where've you been all day?" Taemin asks that evening at dinner. "I mean, not that I don't want you to go out and do stuff. I'm just curious."

"I was with Jonghyun," Jinki answers, swallowing a chunk of Taemin's unfortunate cooking. "He wants me to sing with him in the talent show."

"Oh, cool," Taemin says brightly. "I'm playing the piano for it."

"Nice," Jinki says, adding half-jokingly, "Are you any good?"

"I don't know about that," Taemin answers seriously. "I've been playing since I was five, but until I was twelve, I didn't really like it. Then I started middle school, and I just started loving it. It's something I really enjoy, I just go over to the church and practice on the baby grand in the back room to occupy myself."

"I didn't know that," Jinki says, surprised. He starts to serve himself more beef, remembers who prepared it, and piles more rice into his bowl instead. "Sounds like you're pretty dedicated."

"I really like it," Taemin says, getting up to refill his water glass. "When I go out at night, that's usually where I am. At the church."

"Maybe I'll come by and listen sometime," Jinki offers.

"Oh," Taemin says. He's standing at the refrigerator, his back to Jinki. "Sure."

Jinki senses that Taemin's being shy about his piano playing. He grins and resolves to surprise Taemin when he's playing one of these days, just to embarrass him.

Sungjong is elusive. When Jinki requests an interview, he agrees in a heartbeat, but it takes Jinki nearly two days to actually track the younger man down. When he does, Sungjong greets him cordially, smiling and giggling, "Of course I remember! Sure, let's do an interview. Right now? Great!" But even as Jinki leads him to a couple of secluded chairs on the main house's back porch, there's something shifty in Sungjong's eyes, something uncomfortable and mistrustful and defensive. This, Jinki thinks, could make for a very productive interview. But only if he plays his cards right.

"Are you, like, interviewing everyone?" Sungjong asks.

"Most people, yes," Jinki says, turning on his tape recorder. "I'm still trying to get an audience with the pastor."

"Good luck with that," Sungjong mutters.

"But anyway." Jinki settles into his white wicker chair. "Tell me about yourself. Do you have any hobbies? I know Taemin plays piano."

"I took piano until I was ten," Sungjong says. "Then I quit."

"Anything else?"

"I like to sing," Sungjong says slowly, his intonation making his words sound more like a question than a statement. "But not, like, seriously or anything. Just for fun. Like at home."

"That's the same as me, then," Jinki says. "Are you going to sing in the talent show?"

"Oh, no," Sungjong laughs. "I never participate in the talent show."

"Why not?" Jinki frowns. "Heck, I'm participating in the talent show, and I'm not even a member of the Church."

"I guess it's easier for you, then," Sungjong says. "You've probably heard about my brothers by now."

"I've heard the basics," Jinki says carefully.

"And now you probably want me to tell you the details," Sungjong says, raising an eyebrow.

"Only if you're comfortable doing so," Jinki says quietly. He bows his head deeply. "I'm sorry, I know this is probably hard for you to talk about. But, if it's okay . . ."

"Sure, whatever," Sungjong says. "What do you want to know?"

"Well," Jinki says. "Tell me your story. I want to hear what you have to say about it."

"From the beginning?"

"From whenever you want to start."

"Fine," Sungjong says. "I'll start with Kim Myungsoo. The guy that ruined my life.

"Myungsoo was my friend first, before he even knew Sungyeol at all. He was a year older than me, but it didn't matter because we were so young. I was six, and he was seven. And it wasn't as weird back then, to be friends with someone outside the Church, because we hadn't really gained a reputation yet. We hadn't started holding up our God Hates Fags signs yet. So Myungsoo and I were friends, best friends, right up until he went off to middle school. And then I didn't see him as often, and we sort of fell out of touch, and when I started middle school, that was when the picketing, the God Hates Fags, started. And that was when we stopped being friends. Because being friends with one of the religious freaks in the school, that was something you just didn't do." Sungjong sighs. "Or at least, it was something Myungsoo just didn't do.

"So for pretty much all of middle school and high school, I had only my family, the Church, to be friends with. I was friends with Taemin and my other cousins, of course. But mostly I was close with my brothers. Hoya and Sungyeol. We were each others' best friends, and especially after I lost Myungsoo, I valued them over everything else. I thought we'd always be together. When they went to college, I was worried they'd move out and leave me behind, but they stayed on Church property. I wasn't allowed to live with them, but I still saw them every day. I waited and waited and waited for the day that I graduated high school, so that I could finally move in with them.

"But then, out of the blue, Myungsoo came and visited the Church. He was a freshman in college, and I was a senior in high school, but when I saw him standing at the door of the church, I felt like a little kid again, like some piece of my past had suddenly surfaced. It was kind of surreal. But as it turned out, he hadn't come to visit me. He'd come for Sungyeol. Apparently they met in college, although my brother was a year older than Myungsoo.

"When I told Sungyeol that Myungsoo had come to see him, he freaked out, though I had no idea why at the time. Then, in a totally typical Sungyeol reaction, he refused to see Myungsoo and told me to tell him to suck a dick." Sungjong chuckles fondly at the memory. "He was always kind of immature like that, Sungyeol.

"Anyways, Myungsoo didn't really accept that answer. He just stormed into the main house, demanding to see Sungyeol. I told him where Sungyeol's house was, and he ran over there right away. I didn't really get what was going on, so I asked my mom if she knew, and she said she had no idea. So I went over to Sungyeol and Hoya's place to find out for myself. When I got there, the door was open, like Myungsoo had stormed in and not bothered to close it. There was no one downstairs, so I went up to the bedroom and, to my shock, found Sungyeol and Myungsoo kissing on the bed.

"And things pretty much went downhill from there. I was really upset, screaming and crying, and then my mom ran over, and then my dad, and then there was this really big, really public shouting match between the four of them - Myungsoo, Sungyeol, and my parents. Myungsoo said that he wouldn't let them suppress Sungyeol anymore, and Sungyeol begged my parents to forgive him, and my parents just screamed at both of them . . . well anyways, the next morning, Sungyeol packed his things and left. Mom had told him that he would be disowned if he ever had any contact with Myungsoo ever again, but Sungyeol interpreted that to mean that he had to just leave right away. So he did. He left. And Hoya went with him. At first we all thought that Hoya went along out of solidarity, but it turned out that he had a secret boyfriend that he'd been seeing for almost a year."

"Wow," Jinki murmurs. He notices that Sungjong is getting a little bit teary. "I'm sorry if this is too much, you can stop if you want to - "

"It's okay," Sungjong says. "I just . . . the reason Hoya didn't move out when he realized he was gay was because he wanted to stay with me. He told me, the morning they left, that he just wanted to protect me. Because, you know. There have been repercussions. He knew that it wouldn't be easy to be the younger brother of the two gay traitors. And he just . . . he did everything he could. He tried to stop Myungsoo. But in the end . . . he still had to go." Sungjong pauses and takes a deep, shuddering breath, exhaling sharply and wipingly swiftly at the corners of his eyes. "Anyways. That's the story of my brothers' big, happy coming out party. I haven't talked to them since then, due to my parents' monitoring all of my communication. I don't know where they're living. I don't know if Sungyeol and Myungsoo are still together, or if Hoya's still with Dongwoo. All I know is that they're not here, and the pastor hates me for what they did."

"I'm so sorry," Jinki whispers. "That must be awful."

"Yeah, well," Sungjong says. "That's life. At least I still have Taemin, and Byunghun and Chanhee. It could be worse."

"If you don't mind my asking," Jinki says softly, "did you ever think about following them? Your brothers, I mean."

"I think about it every day," Sungjong replies at once. "Obviously, I haven't done it yet. Is that cowardly or brave of me? As long as I'm here, it's brave to stay. But someday, I don't know when, but someday, I'll probably go after them. And as soon as I go, it'll have been brave to leave."

"So . . . you do want to leave?"

"I don't want to be here, but I don't want to leave," Sungjong says. "Does that make sense?"

Jinki shrugs. "Not really, but it's okay. And you know what? I think you're brave no matter what you decide in the end."

Sungjong stares at him. "Really."

"Yeah," Jinki says, smiling. "And your brothers were brave, too."

"I knew that," Sungjong sniffs. "They're the bravest people I've ever known."