SSS 2010: FOR JONGMALAI

[replaymods]

For: jongmalai
From: Your Secret Santa

Title: Quicksand Quality
Pairing: Gen
Rating: PG-13
Wordcount: 6,356
Summary: Jonghyun has a fondness for photography, Taemin adores being with people, and Minho likes his soccer ball.


“What the hell,” Minho groans, picking up the deflated soccer ball with just his fingertips. He eyes it in disgust, removing a piece of shattered glass from the side. “Why is all this stuff here anyways?”

Jonghyun shrugs, stepping on a piece of glass. It breaks under his weight as he scans the field, and glances at the broken pieces of glass and bottles. There are bits and pieces of plastic and metal and marble everywhere. He looks down at the platform they’re on, and picks up a broken bottle of whisky. It has to be at least twenty years old. No one really questions the existence of this place. They look at it, claim it’s weird, and go along. Jonghyun was the same, until his friend’s soccer ball got struck by a piece of glass and popped. “Someone must’ve held a huge frat party here back in the twentieth century or something,” he says. “Think all the flappers took a picture over there?”

Minho follows Jonghyun’s gaze to broken down ancient car. It’s rusted inside out, and looks like it was made back in the early 1900s.

Minho watches Jonghyun look around cautiously, and eyes his soccer ball in disdain. “Seems like a good place to take a picture.” Jonghyun turns the broken bottle around in his hand, looking at the smudged letters on the label. “Too bad you don’t have your camera.”

Jonghyun shrugs. “I could always come back tomorr - ow!” he hisses, dropping the bottle. Minho flinches as blood runs down his finger.

“Oh shit, that’s a lot of blood.”

Jonghyun winces, watching the blood run down his finger. “It’s really deep,” Jonghyun says, “let’s go back to my house to get a bandaid.”

Jonghyun washes his finger, applies ointment, and puts a bandaid on it, staring at his middle finger. “It doesn’t hurt,” he says, and Minho rolls his eyes.

He pinches Jonghyun’s finger, who promptly screams, flailing. “Ow ow ow ow, fuck, that hurts! And that’s not fair either!” He slaps Minho’s hand and shoves him into the wall.

Minho eyes him and Jonghyun knows he’s screwed. “You know you’re screwed for doing that, right?”

Jonghyun looks at him one more time before he bolts to his room screaming bloody murder. When he finally gets there, Minho decides the most effective way is to simply prevent Jonghyun from moving, so when he flops on the bed, Minho sits on top of him, ignoring Jonghyun screaming.

“You added a new picture,” Minho comments, looking at the different posters and portraits of pictures that Jonghyun has taken. Jonghyun’s always been into photography, though he’s never actually considered it to be anything more than a hobby. The newest addition is a ballerina raising her left leg over her head.

“It’s nice, isn’t it?” Jonghyun grins, and props himself up on his elbows. “My mom let me visit her dance school yesterday, and this girl let me take a picture of her. My mom was actually the one who blew the picture up poster size.”

“It is,” Minho nods. “You didn’t get her number, did you?” That laugh is all it takes for Minho to grab the back of Jonghyun’s head and stuff it into the mattress.

“Mff zoo faaghu!” Jonghyun snaps, waving his arms around.

“Oh,” Minho says, noticing something at the edge of the bed. “You left your Xbox on. From last night?”

He lets go of Jonghyun’s head and he looks up. “Duh. Dude. Best Call of Duty match ever.”

Minho grins, grabbing it. “Totally worth the all nighter.”

Jonghyun grins, and slaps Minho’s thigh. “Now get off me. Verse you?”

Minho thinks about for a second, and moves to the side so Jonghyun can go and grab a second controller. Minho ends up going home around one in the morning.

Jonghyun spends his Saturday lazing around and bothering his sister and taking pictures of his food. It’s almost sunset when he realizes he still needs to take a picture of the field. When he gets out of the house, he can still see the tips of the sun grazing over the fields, casting an orangey-purple tint across the sky, which Jonghyun has to stop at least six times for to take a picture of. He finally reaches his destination, and almost trips over the guard railing next to the road.

He stares at the field for a moment, blinking once, twice, thrice - no, still the same as two seconds ago. All the broken down glassware is gone, as well as the platform, and the car, and just. Jonghyun jumps over and goes tumbling down into the gorge to investigate.

He spends ten minutes looking through the grass trying to look for one little broken piece of glass, or maybe one of the broken bottles of alcohol. He looks at his finger, and the bandaid is still there. He pokes it to make sure and - ouch, yeah, it’s still there.

After standing there in shock for a few moments, he finally decides he might as well take the picture anyways, since he’s here. It’s nearly twilight, so he goes back up the hill to the railing, making sure his footing is right, and the lighting and everything is good. He clicks the button on the camera and screams.

The camera drops to the ground without its owner.

Minho wakes up the next day at eleven in the morning with a call from Jonghyun’s mom. “Hello?” he mutters, trying to shake the drowsiness out of his voice.

“Minho? Did I wake you up?”

“No, no,” he lies. “I was just… reading.”

“I see,” he mother says. “Well, have you seen Jonghyun anywhere? Do you know here he is?”

Minho looks confused, and throws his comforter off. “No? I haven’t seen him since the day before yesterday.”

There’s a brief pause, and then a sign comes. “I see,” his mother says. “He’s been missing since yesterday. Can I talk to your mother?”

“Um. Sure.” Minho binks. “Can I come over? To, you know, see.”

“Yes, yes, that’d be okay.”

With that Minho hands his mother the phone, changes, and nearly goes flying out the door.

He’s almost a kilometer away from Jonghyun’s house, when he stops by the area his soccer ball popped. Everything’s gone. Minho stares at it for a little bit in more wonder than shock, wondering how everything could have disappeared in one day. He can’t see the glimmer of a piece of broken glass anyways, and there’s no indent in the ground from where the platform was. He’s about to look further, but then remembers that there are more important matters at hand. Like Jonghyun’s disappearance.

He’s really not that worried, to be honest. It’s not the first time Jonghyun’s done this. He goes to his friend’s houses, or goes out to places but always forgets to tell his mother. He’s probably getting a call from him soon anyways. When Minho’s about to leave, his footsteps on something, and he looks down to see Jonghyun’s camera.

He picks it up and looks it over, and turns the camera around, inspecting it. It’s not broken anywhere, albeit a few scratches on the bottom, but the camera functions fine, Minho reasons, turning the camera on. He clicks the memory button and - what the fuck.

The picture is the field, but there are people everywhere. White, transparent people. Jonghyun’s definitely not at a friend’s house, Minho deduces, and runs back to his house.

Lying on his bed, he looks at the camera over and over. He takes a picture of his room and half expects ghosts to be walking all over, when instead he finds nothing out of place. He takes another picture of his nightstand.

But when he goes back to the memory, there’s two more new pictures, neither of which Minho just took. The first picture is Jonghyun’s house, except its dark outside, where Minho looks out the window and sees the sun still up. He turns back to the picture and stares at it a little more. Other than being dark literally, in a way the mood of the picture feels dreary and gloomy. Minho goes back one more and sees his nightstand. He goes back one more and pauses.

This isn’t weird at all.

He goes back one more picture and sees a self-taken picture of Jonghyun. In the background is his house, in the dark, and his expression has a small smile, but it doesn’t look very genuine. That’s not what catches his eyes though. In the background, over Jonghyun’s shoulder, he sees a boy about his age. He’s transparent too, but his mouth is open and his hand is gesturing to Jonghyun. Almost like he’s telling him to follow him. Unlike Jonghyun, the kid is a transparent, like all the other ghost-people. The fourth picture is the picture of Minho’s room.

Jonghyun looks at his house. “This,” he says, “is my house.”

Taemin laughs. “What are you talking about? This is where I live, obviously. Come on, you could stay here if you want. My mom wouldn’t mind.”

So far, Jonghyun’s got two things down - he’s in some alternate reality of his world, where it’s always twilight. It’s never morning, but it’s never exactly night either. Like being in limbo. It’s strange, but the concept doesn’t bother him as much as it should.

They enter Taemin’s slash his own house, and walk around. “Your mom isn’t home right now?” Jonghyun asks, when they enter the kitchen.

“She’s not usually home, let’s go to my room,” Taemin says quickly, a bit too quickly, but Jonghyun doesn’t catch it and simply shrugs, following him up the stairs. He’s a little less than surprised when Taemin’s room ends up being his own room. It’s a little weird to see bare, white walls instead of his picture infested ones.

“I’ll get some snacks, make yourself at home,” he says and walks out. Jonghyun laughs at the irony of the statement, but flops down on the bed and looks at his camera. He turns it on, is tempted to take a picture, but decides to look and see if anything happened to his old ones. He clicks the memory button and goes looks at the picture of his house. His house always looked cheery and bright to him, but in this picture it looks depressing, though that’s probably just the effect of it being twilight. He goes back one, expecting to see the picture of him, when instead he sees some other person’s desk, he stares at it a bit.

It’s Minho’s room, he deduces, after looking at the soccer trophy and seeing Minho’s alarm clock. Why is Minho’s nightstand in his pictures? He goes back one more and sees the self taken picture of himself. He goes back one more time, confused again to see Minho’s room. So his camera is either possessed, or in Minho’s possession somehow. Oh, Jonghyun thinks, well of course. It’s a theory, but he goes to test it anyways. If he has his camera in this alternate reality, Minho should have his camera back in the real world. He goes to the video option and clicks record, pointing the lens at himself.

“Minho? Minho, it’s me, Jonghyun. Do you have my camera? Right now I’m in Taemin’s room. I mean, I’m in my own house, in my own room, but it’s not mine. It’s this kid named Taemin. This whole place is like some type of alternate universe, where everything is the same. He’s downstairs right now, but basically I have no idea what’s going on. You better get this message, or I might have to kill you.” He presses the record button again, and it goes to standby. Half a minute later Taemin walks in and Jonghyun shoves the camera into his pocket.

“Were you talking to someone?” Taemin asks, and Jonghyun looks up, trying his best to look surprised.

“Talking?” Jonghyun says, “Who could I be talking to?”

Taemin shrugs. “Yourself? I do that a lot, you know. Talking to myself. It helps me get out a lot of things. I’m not one to keep things locked inside of me, so I just simply say them to myself.” Jonghyun gives him a weird look, but nods and looks down at the things he’s brought. He’s not really surprised, at this point, to see that the snacks for the most part the same, just with the writing upside down.

“So how’d you get here anyways?” Taemin asks.

Jonghyun shrugs. “I’m not even sure myself. I just took a picture, and found myself in front of you. It’s weird how I’m not scared yet.”

“Yeah. I turned around there you were. Weird, isn’t it? And you had that thing.”

“Thing?”

“Yeah,” Taemin says. “The box thing.”

“Oh,” Jonghyun laughs, and takes his camera out of his pocket. “You mean this?”

“Yes, that! What is that?”

Jonghyun raises an eyebrow. “It’s a camera, obviously.””

Taemin’s eyes widen. “A camera! And that tiny? That’s incredible. My dad has a camera, but it’s huge! You know, black blanket thing and all? He doesn’t take many pictures, of course, they use too much powder.”

That’s where it clicks in his mind. Olden cameras. 1900s. He gets it.

“I get it,” he says, and snaps his fingers. “I’m in the past.”

“The past?”

“Yeah,” he says. “Mind if I look around town?”

Taemin blinks, and looks down at the snacks. “Sure, why not? Can I come?”

“Sure,” Jonghyun says, “who knows what’s changed in the past hundred years.”

They wander around downtown, and Jonghyun’s slightly amazed. Everything seems the same. Old-ified, of course, but that was a given.

Taemin buys him a friendship ring and Jonghyun marvels at it, examining the ring in the light.

“I can’t believe they had friendship rings back then,” he says with a chuckle. “I like it. And it actually fits my finger.”

Taemin laughs. “Mine, too.” They share a smile, and that’s that.

Over the next couple of days, Taemin and Jonghyun spend every moment together, except at night when Jonghyun records himself talking to Minho. In the morning he wakes up to a reply, but in the end, no progress is really made. Taemin drags him around town to various shops and parks every day.

“I’m going to go out for a bit, Taemin,” Jonghyun says, shoving a beanie onto his head and reaching for a jacket.

“Wait, let me come too!” Taemin calls after him, running across the room to grab his coat as well.

Jonghyun raises an eyebrow. “Its fine, you really don’t have to come as well.”

“I want to, hyung,” Taemin says, and runs across the house again to grab his shoes.

Jonghyun goes clothes shopping, because, well, why not? Taemin follows him around like a lost puppy, trailing nearly a couple footsteps behind him. It’s kind of creepy, but there’s been worse. He grabs a couple vests and disappears into the changing room.

After reappearing with a jacket slung across his arm, he finds Taemin in the corner of the store curled into a ball on the floor.

“Taemin!” Jonghyun rushes over, bending down next to the boy. Taemin looks up, and wipes the already dried tears from his face. “God, Taemin, what are you doing down here? Why are you crying?”

“I thought you left, hyung. I couldn’t find you, and no one knew where you were. I-I don’t know. I didn’t know what to do.”

“Jesus, Taemin,” Jonghyun says, standing up and holding his hand out for Taemin to grab. “I wasn’t gone for that long. It was five minutes, tops.”

Taemin stands up, sniffing. “Sorry. I just. I really don’t like being alone.”

Jonghyun stares at him for a bit, but pats him on the head like a five year old. “That’s fine, I suppose.”

When Taemin is in the bathroom, Jonghyun finds a chair to sit down in and pulls out his camera. Pressing the record button, he starts talking.

“Yeah, so basically I have no idea how I got here, and no idea as to how I could get back. Did you tell my mom, Minho? Or my sister?” He rolls his eyes at the people that look at him weirdly, and continues. “Yeah, I don’t know what’s up with Taemin. He’s seventeen, but acts like he’s seven. It’s weird.” When he’s done recording, he shoves the camera back into his pocket just in time to see Taemin walk out. They go back to their house afterwards.

One particular Sunday morning, Jonghyun enters the kitchen to see a woman sitting at the kitchen table, talking to Taemin.

Taemin turns around and smiles. “Hyung! This is my mom, she said its fine with you staying here. See? I told you.”

He looks at her mom, who makes a small nod of approval and pats the boy on the head. She smiles, and Jonghyun forcibly resists the urge to cringe. She seems like a dignified lady, head to toe, with a strict business woman aura and plastered fake smile.

“That’s alright, but I have to go now. I have to go to Busan, I’ll be back in two weeks, okay?”

Taemin’s face falls, mumbling. “You just got here last night.”

She gives him a strict look, and he immediately straightens up, holding his hands together behind his back. “Sorry, mother.”

“What did you ask your mom?” Jonghyun asks when they’re later up in Taemin’s room, sitting next to each other on his bed. “You know, about me.”

Taemin shrugs. “I asked if a friend could stay over for a while.”

“You didn’t talk about my situation?”

“No,” Taemin frowns. “She’d think I really am crazy. She’d probably send me to the doctor for real.”

Jonghyun watches Taemin fidget nervously. “The doctor?” Taemin nods slowly, curling up into a ball like a child. He feels bad, so Jonghyun throws an arm around Taemin’s shoulders, letting Taemin’s head rest there. “Doctors aren’t too bad. They’re there to make you feel better.”

“They don’t always, though. Mother says they’re going to do to me what they did to father.”

Jonghyun shivers, tightening his grip around Taemin. “You don’t like being alone, do you?”

“You won’t leave me, right?”

Jonghyun freezes, grip loosening for a split second. He regrets it the moment he does it because Taemin notices.

“You can’t, I’m going to be all alone!” Taemin whines. “What am I going to do if you leave?”

Jonghyun gives him an awkward smile. “I’m sure you’ll find someone.”

“You’re lying,” Taemin snaps, “You’re lying. Mother says that no one will like me if I keep acting like this. She said that’s why father’s not here anymore. She said that I have the same genes as father.”

“Please,” Jonghyun snorts. “What your mother says isn’t always true. You’re being paranoid. Besides, I don’t even know how to leave. I’ll be here for a while.”

He feels his skin crawl when Taemin smiles at that.

Minho presses the record button and hands the camera to Jonghyun’s sister.

“Jonghyun ah? It’s noona. Everything’s okay, right? You’re not hurt anywhere, right? Um. I, I hope you come back soon. Try to find a way back! Try doing really cliché stuff, like. Like taking a picture in the mirror! Or. Going back to the field and taking a picture there. You know? Mom doesn’t know yet. We’ve told her some things to calm her down, but you know how she is. Anyways, I’m waiting for you here.”

She hands the camera back to Minho, and steps out of the room

“Hey, loser,” he starts. “Did Taemin do anything weird again? It sounds like there may be something mentally wrong with him, if he acts a lot less like his age, and he’s always clinging onto you. Genetic, maybe? You said that he suggested that his father had the same thing. The most I can say is to hold on for now. Keep trying to find a way back! Your mom is crazy, you know that? She’s constantly asking about where you are. We can’t keep hiding you for long, I hope you know that, you ass.”

He clicks the record button, satisfied, and goes to the memory. As expect, he sees another video from Jonghyun. Something’s weird though. He hasn’t noticed before, but now he can see it. The border of Jonghyun and background is fading slightly, so he looks slightly transparent. His hair is lighter, and skin is paler. After going back a couple pictures, he realizes how big the difference is. Jonghyun is becoming more and more like the people in the other world. White, transparent, like ghosts in the background. He debates with himself internally, and decides on watching the video first.

“Minho? Hey. It’s me, again. Obviously, who else would it be? Okay, well. Anyways. Nothing’s changed. I can’t do anything. I went back to the field yesterday. With Taemin. This kid has some problems, I’m telling you. Last time he came with me nothing happened, so I told him that he couldn’t come this time, and he started throwing a fit, like a five year old. Asking why not and how come and then accusing me of trying to do something behind his back. I suppose I am, actually. But it’s all for a good cause, really. So I ended up sneaking out while he was sleeping. I think it was at night. I don’t even know because it’s always twilight here. It looks and feels depressing. But yeah, didn’t do anything. Right now I’m about to go join Taemin to do something. I don’t even know what. But anyways, you better be figuring something out, or I will have to shank you when I get back. Okay he’s coming, bye-“

Taemin knocks on the door three times, and then opens it, looking at a Jonghyun who’s lying on his bed face up.

“Did I disturb you?” he asks politely, and Jonghyun shakes his head.

“No - just staring at the ceiling. Bored.”

Taemin laughs. “Wanna help me cook? I’m debating between pasta and lasagna.”

Jonghyun shrugs. “Aren’t they basically the same thing?” He looks at Taemin for a moment before standing up, walking out the door. “Pasta it is.”

“We have to get the ingredients from the basement,” Taemin says, walking down the stairs, and then opening the door to the basement. “Mother says to keep things down there, because it’s cold. They won’t spoil as easily.”

Jonghyun stuffs his hands in his pockets. “Life was so hard back here. Refrigerators are a blessing, now that I think about it.”

Taemin raises an eyebrow. “What’s a refrigerator?”

“Box like things. They’re really cold, and you put food in there to preserve it. Works really well.” He pauses for a moment, and Taemin bumps into his back.

“Ouch? What was that for?”

Jonghyun ignores him. “Put it like that, fridges don’t sound very amazing. But they are, really.”

Taemin turns on the lights, walking to the wall where a bunch of boxes are, stashed with food. “You stopped suddenly as if you had an epiphany for that? I could’ve sworn you had just seen the light. I bumped into you for that.”

“Sorry, can’t help my amazing revelations.” Something then catches his eyes, because even though he knows his own house inside out, he doesn’t remember this at all. Jonghyun raises an eyebrow. “Hey, I’ve never seen that room before.” He points to a door at the corner of the basement, hidden behind a cabinet. “Has that always been there?”

“Yeah,” Taemin smiles. “It’s my special room. I keep a bunch of stuff in there. But it’s off guards to everyone else.”

Jonghyun smiles awkwardly. “Even me?”

Taemin smiles. “Even you.” He brings up a small box of supplies and starts to walk up the stairs. “You coming?”

Jonghyun eyes the door one more time before following him up the stairs. The first thing he does is get his camera out and relay the message to Minho.

“You should check out this room for me, since I’m not sure what will happen if I go there and he’s there or if something happens.”

Minho rolls his eyes before getting up off Jonghyun’s bed and into the basement. He goes exactly to the spot Jonghyun describes, and is face to face with the wall. “Is this a joke,” he wonders aloud, and shrugs, putting his hand on it.

Nothing unusual, he thinks offhandedly, while searching for any imperfections on the wall. He taps it and then - oh, that may be something. He knocks on the wall again, and now he knows he’s found something. It’s hollow, with its empty sound echoing off the walls. Moving his hand along the plaster, he stops when there’s a faint line going down towards the floor. He traces it with his finger, and frowns. It’s the outline of a door. Taking a deep breath, Minho pushes at it. It doesn’t budge, so Minho pushes harder. Two minutes later, he takes a running start and slams into the wall, and the door breaks falling onto the floor with Minho atop it. He gets up, coughing and waving dust away from his face, peering into the darkness. There’s no light bulb in this part of the basement, so he has to run back upstairs and get a flashlight.

When he gets back downstairs, he clicks it on and steps inside the room. Most of the room is filled with nonsense stuff, a pile of paperclips in a corner, a rock collection in another. There’s random boxes filled with toys, torn apart books, and ripped up clothes. He holds back a shudder and takes a couple more steps into the cramped room, before tripping over something and falling. When he gets up, he groans, pointing the flashlight at whatever he just tripped on.

It’s a photo album, and Minnho’s curiosity wins as he opens the book, peering at the pictures. He freezes up when the first picture he sees is a young teenager in a suit, smiling next to Jonghyun. It’s Taemin, Minho tells himself, that’s definitely Taemin. Taemin is real, and that doesn’t make any sense at all, but it has to be. He takes Jonghyun’s camera out and presses the record button.

“Jonghyun, is this Taemin? Is this you?”

Holding the camera and flashlight up at the same time is annoying, so he puts it down and goes to the picture mode on the camera. He snaps a picture, blinking when the flash goes off, but then something in the back of his room catches his eye and he picks up the flashlight again, pointing it to the wall.

He drops it and gasps, throat closing up and palms sweating. There’s two skeletons sitting against the wall, next to each other. Their arms are around each other, and one skeleton’s head is on the other’s shoulder. He gets up and runs out of the basement, into Jonghyun’s room, and locks the door, panting. Fumbling with the camera, he finally turns it one and rambles, saying everything in a panic that Jonghyun probably wouldn’t understand.

“Jonghyun, you have to get out of there.”

Jonghyun turns the camera off, not exactly sure what to make of the message.

Jonghyun sits in the corner of his bed, curled up into a little ball, with the camera thrown carelessly in the middle.

Two skeletons. Two skeletons. Two skeletons hugging. What is that supposed to mean?

Someone knows on the door, and Jonghyun doesn’t have to look up to know it’s Taemin.

“Hyung! I bought some - hyung?” Taemin looks at him, putting the plate of food on the food carefully. “Are you feeling okay?”

“Uh, just a little… you know,” Jonghyun starts, not quite sure how to end it. Like I shouldn’t be talking to you. Like I want to go home. Like you’re a little crazy. Like-

“Lonely,” Jonghyun blurts, and regrets it the moment he says it.

“Lonely?” Taemin asks, and Jonghyun smiles lightly.

“I’ll stay with you then, hyung.” Taemin grins brightly, and Jonghyun blinks. He doesn’t really look like a crazy kid. “I know that feeling really well, so I know what it’s like.”

“Oh,” Jonghyun says. “Okay then.”

Taemin grabs the plate again and puts it on the bed, crawling next to Jonghyun. “I’m here - feel any better?”

Jonghyun laughs a bit, because no, he doesn’t feel any better, he’s the problem, but nods anyways. “Yeah. Loads.”

“Yeah, so. I dunno, man. Nothings working. No idea how to get back. I’ve been trying loads of things. I’ve taken a picture of myself in the mirror, because that’s what they do in movies. Remember that Rugrats episode? Yeah. Did I tell you that already? I think I did. But anyways, the point is I really miss home. Maybe you have to do something, over there. You have my camera, after all.”

He presses the standby button, and turns the camera off. Putting it in his back pocket, he hears three knocks at his door. Taemin opens it, walking in with a weird expression.

“I heard you talking,” Taemin says, looking at Jonghyun suspiciously. “To someone named Minho. Have you been seeing anyone?”

Have you been seeing anyone behind my back? is what Jonghyun knows he’s really asking, despite the cheerful tone of voice. He knows by now that something is not right with Taemin. He doesn’t like being alone. Being by himself is scary. His mom is never home, he’s never seen his dad before, has no siblings, and he has no friends at school. Taemin’s trapped in his own little world.

Jonghyun smiles, but it falters at the edges. “Of course not. Have you ever talked to yourself?” It’s a rhetorical question, but he sees Taemin nod anyways, accompanied with a bright smile that sends chills down Jonghyun’s spine. “Yeah, well, I do that too, a lot. So, y’know, I decided to give my conscious a name, to feel less lonely. Minho.” It’s probably the biggest lie he’s ever told, but Taemin lets out a breathy ‘oh’ and sighs in content.

It starts when Jonghyun goes to throw his apple out, and enters the kitchen, scratching the back of his head and yawning. It’s officially been two weeks since he’s been trapped, and he’s so thankful that they’re on winter break and the cops aren’t doing this whole investigation on where he is. Minho must have been a saint in a past life.

He walks into the kitchen, not surprised to see Taemin sitting at the countertop. He is surprised, however, when Taemin has his camera in his hand, and Jonghyun can hear Minho’s voice from it. Shit.

“Jonghyun hyung?” Taemin looks up at him, and Jonghyun can almost feel the sense of betrayal coming from Taemin. “I thought you said Minho was your conscious.”

“I, well. You see, um.” Jonghyun racks his head for something to say. “It’s a modern day term, you know? Someone who knows you really well! You call them your conscious.”

“I don’t know you well?”

“What? I never said -“

“Hyung, you lied to me! He’s trying to get you out of here, do you know that? He wants you to leave me!” Taemin is red in the face, about to burst into tears. “Do you know what that even means?”

“Well, I mean. It’s my home…” Jonghyun says, and just like that, he knows he’s said the wrong thing.

Taemin slams the camera down on the table, and Jonghyun winces, eyeing it to see if it’s okay.

“You said that this was your home, don’t you remember?”

Jonghyun tries to find the right words to say. “It is my home, in the other world… Taemin, you’re a great kid and all, but I really have to leave, somehow.”

“You can’t leave!” Taemin is screaming, walking forward slowly, with his head tilted to the side and eyes wide open. “You won’t leave!”

“Taemin, I have to,” Jonghyun stammers, stumbles backwards into the stairs, nervous. “I can’t stay here - you know that, right?”

“Yes you can!” Taemin shrieks, and just like that, he starts crying, sobbing and hysterically screaming. Jonghyun only watches, too frightened to do anything.

“Do you want me to die?” Taemin shouts, “Do you want me to rot here like a corpse? Because I will if you go!”

“No you won’t,” Jonghyun bites his tongue and his eyes widen, adrenaline rush pouring through his veins. “No you won’t, really, Taemin, you won’t, its okay. Everything will be fine. I just. You can do this, alright? I mean. You know?” He takes a step back, up the stairs, and one more, going over in his mind what the hell he’s going to do. He mind goes haywire, and the hungry look in Taemin’s eye makes his brain fried, so he does the only logical thing - run.

He turns around, bolting up the stairs, clutching his camera in one hand, and looking over his shoulder at Taemin. He’s running after him, and Jonghyun slightly wonders what Taemin is going to do with him if he catches him. He vaguely hears a thump behind him and sees Taemin hit his head on the top step.

Oh god, Jonghyun panics, Oh god. There’s blood. He’s bleeding, it’s everywhere, he might bleed to death there on the floor, but he doesn’t want to walk over and -

Taemin looks up, crimson running down his face, with a crazed look in his eyes. “Hyung! Hyung, why are you leaving me? I thought, I thought. I told you everything.”

Jonghyun gives him one look before running down the hallway, trying to block his screams from his head. He reaches his own room, and stares at it. The posterless walls, the picture-less desk, the empty door, void of the stupid dumb stuff his sister and friends wrote. It all scares him, and he runs to the window, opening it with trembling hands. He sticks his head out the window, looking for something, anything.

“Jonghyun hyung!”

Jonghyun turns around, screams, and sees Taemin standing there in the doorway.

“Hyung, I swear, I will kill myself if you - “

Jonghyun isn’t paying attention. The earlier scare made him drop his camera out the window. Out the window. The window. Down, down, down, onto the hard concrete down below. He hears Taemin advancing, and looks out the window.

This can’t. No. The camera. The only connection to Minho. The only connection to his sister, his mom, his family, the real world. He can’t lose it. He won’t lose it.

He jumps.

“Jonghyun! Oh my god, Jonghyun is that really you?”

Jonghyun blinks, and sits up instantly, gasping for air as if he hasn’t had it in years. Someone’s kneeling down next to him, he has no idea who it is, because all he can comprehend is that he’s sitting on the pavement, in modern times clothing, and color. The sun is yellow, the sky is blue, it is morning, not twilight, the sun hurts his eyes, but fuck it, it’s in the middle of the sky, not barely skimming the treetops permanently. Then the person next to him taps his shoulder, and Jonghyun jumps. Looking over, he sees a familiar face, and at first he doesn’t actually believe it’s him until he speaks.

“Jonghyun, it’s me, Minho. Holy crap - how did you? How are you back?”

Jonghyun throws his arms around, squeezing the taller boy, because it’s Minho, Minho who’s not on a camera screen anymore.

“No fucking idea,” he mumbles. “I killed myself, I think. Something. I jumped out the window.”

Minho pulls away, and looks up. Jonghyun finally realizes he’s on his driveway, and follows gaze to his house. Right above them is Jonghyun’s room, and his window is open.

“I just opened that,” Minho said. “That’s how I saw you down here.”

“Maybe,” Jonghyun says, “we both opened it at the same time.”

Minho nods, before something else pops into his mind. “Oh, the basement. You need to see it, for real.”

Jonghyun almost forgets what he’s talking about, until the camera clicks into his mind. “Where’s my camera?” he asks, “is it broken?”

Minho pulls it out of his back pocket. “Right here,” he says, standing up. “Now come on, you have to see.”

Jonghyun stands up, and follows Minho, despite it being his own house. They venture down into the basement and Jonghyun stares at the broken wall.

“Really, man?”

“Do you want me to punch you,” Minho warns, and Jonghyun puts his hands up defensively, walking in front of Minho. “I put the flashlight on the door.”

“On the door?”

Minho shrugs. “It’s broken, and on the floor.”

Jonghyun sighs, bends down, and picks up the flashlight. He turns it on and flashes it at Minho for a moment before handing it over to him. Minho grabs it, and points it around, going to every corner except for where he knows the skeletons are.

“Let’s look at the photo albums first.”

Minho picks a book off the ground, and Jonghyun grabs it, opening to a random page.

“That’s Taemin,” Jonghyun says. “Wait, I know this picture. I was supposed to be in it. We paid some random photographer dude to take a picture of us. It took so long I didn’t bother smiling.”

“That’s very nice, but if you were supposed to be in it, then why aren’t you there?”

“I don’t know,” Jonghyun admits. “I was standing right there, on Taemin’s left. Why aren’t I there?” He stares at the picture for a bit more, and flips through the other pages. “Okay,” he says, throwing the book down, “where are these things?”

Minho aims the light at the back section of the room, against the wall, and they both gasp. There’s only one skeleton, its head slanted over and both arms lying limply on one side only.

Its head is tilted just so that Jonghyun feels like its staring at him, and he doesn’t need any evidence to know whose skeleton that is.