Chapter Text
JISUNG
The small box I carried in my hands was heavier than it needed to be. It wasn’t filled with books or anything useful—just a few knick-knacks, clothes, and random bits of my life that I thought I might need. I could feel the weight of everything I was leaving behind as I slowly reached my destination,
I wasn’t sure if I was ready to face what lay ahead.
I had known for a while that this day would come. I would move in, share a space with someone, and start my life here in this some what strange place that was way too familiar, I was far from the city and away from my family.
I didn't know why I felt this way about returning back here after four years.
I chose this for myself, after all. A fresh start—one that felt like it was the only option left.
My family stayed still not understanding why I wanted to leave so soon. Maybe it was because they didn’t understand that I was tired of relying on them. I wanted to make my own way, stand on my own two feet without anyone’s help. It was easier said than done, though. The jobs I had applied for—teaching jobs in different institutions—hadn’t called me back, except for this one. The truth was, I needed this. I needed the money, the stability, the opportunity to get my life back on track, even if it meant I had to swallow my pride and return to a place I never thought I’d come back to.
I let out a long sigh as I stood at the threshold of the room. The institution had changed a little, but not much. The hallway was the same as it had been years ago—cold, and quiet, with faint echoes of footsteps in the distance. I could smell the faint scent of old wood and the faint aroma of candles, a staple of every Catholic camp I’d ever attended. The old wooden door creaked slightly as I pushed it open, revealing the large room inside.
It was simple but spacious. Two separate beds stood at opposite ends of the room, a small kitchen against one wall, and a bathroom twice the size of the kitchen. There was no bunk bed anymore, and I was glad about that. The idea of having to climb into a high bed again, as I had when I was younger, was unbearable. Now, I could just sink into the bed whenever I wanted and pretend I was home, even if it didn’t feel like it.
I dropped my last moving box on the empty bed, setting it down carefully, and took a look around. My side of the room looked insane compare to the other side, items unorganized, and things that just hadn’t found their place yet. But the other side look so perfect, my 'roommate' who I haven't met yet had His bed neatly made, everything in it's place, as if he had been living here for years. I wonder if he had, My eyes caught a Bible positioned carefully beside his pillow, a comforting but disquieting sight. I couldn't help but feel a pang of annoyance. It was so typical. So... religious. It was everything I had left behind. I guess there's a big difference between a child of the world than the one of god.
"Cleaningness is next to godliness." I sighed. Of course, the one thing I didn’t want to deal with—religion—was staring me in the face again. I shaked my head as I eyed the book one last time. I know every part of it but I feel so distance from it now.
From the frame bible verses and the photo of the son bleeding on the cross and multiple crosses hanging on the wall I could already tell my roommate and I wouldn't get along and I hope we don't. I'd have to fool him making him think I still believe or I wouldn't last long here. But I'd hate talking about something I don't care about.
I turned my gaze back to the room and glanced at the small kitchen, trying to avoid the feelings that were starting to creep up. This wasn’t the first time I’d been here. In fact, it was the last place I wanted to be. The nostalgia hit me like a ton of bricks as soon as I walked through the doors. I hated how familiar it all was.
A Catholic camp institution—one I had come to years ago when I was just fifteen. I had been full of faith then, passionate and eager to learn everything about the religion I grew up to know from my very conservative Christian family, the teachings, and how it all worked. I believed I had been meant to be here, in this place, at that time.
But that was then. And now?
I wasn’t sure who I was anymore. At least not to this place. I didn't belong here anymore because I had lost my faith a long while ago.
I remembered how much I had loved it back then, how I had felt so connected to a part of something bigger than the universe. But life, and everything that came with it, had changed me. I had grown up. Or at least, I thought I had. Now, after applying for countless teaching positions in different schools and institutions, this was the only one that accepted me. The only one that didn’t question my qualifications or my experience.
Because they knew me. Not actually, they knew who I was back then, not now.
Infact the owner of the camp establishment personally spoke to me on the phone saying how happy he was to hear I was returning back to serve my purpose for being alive and how the children would love me teach them the bible because he had witnessed how passionate I was for the lord.
He isn't wrong, I know every part of the book But I'm only here for the money.
I have to pretend. Pretend I still felt that same connection to the faith. Pretend I was still in touch with the spiritual side of me that had been so important once upon a time. Pretend that I believed in it all—everything the institution stood for—just so I can keep this job. Just so I could get my life together.
I felt like a liar for it. Coming back and live a life that isn't mine, trying to teach something I didn’t believe in anymore. But the price of the lie was a small one compared to the alternative. And I couldn’t afford to pass this opportunity up.
"I was so sad and confused why you left so suddenly Jisung, you were such an inspiration to the younger kids." The Priest and the founder of the establishment questioned as we spoke on the phone.
"You left without saying anything not even to my son, it was very strange." He continued
"What matters is I'm back now." I faked a laugh.
What no one knew was that the real reason I had left wasn’t because I had lost my faith. No, I was still very much in touch with it when I left, It was still there, a part of me I couldn’t completely shake or question. No, the real reason I had left was something entirely different, something I had only just come to terms with over the past few years.
It wasn’t the faith that had driven me away—it was Minho.
Minho, the son of the priest who found the establishment. Minho, my "used to be best friend."
Back then, I didn’t have the words to describe what I was feeling. I didn’t know what the word *bisexual* even meant, much less what it meant for me. But I had known one thing for certain—my heart had belonged to Minho.
I had been in love with him.
He didn’t know.
No one knew.
And when I left , it wasn’t because I had lost my faith or because I was angry at the world. It was because I had come to realize that my feelings for Minho were something I couldn’t hide anymore. So I ran away like a coward to escape those feelings, to find myself and make sense of everything. I didn’t know how to deal with the fact that I loved a boy, a boy who was madly in love with his religion, a boy that could never feel the same way about me.
But now, here I was.
Back at the place where it all began. Where the feelings had started.
And I could only hope that Minho wasn’t here anymore.
I didn’t want to face him. Not now, Not after all the intense things that happened between us the night before I disappeared.
Not after the years of silence, the distance, and the unspoken words...
And completely ignoring if we had ever existed in each other's lives.