Roses blooming from the chaos - Minsung

Chapter 55

A year later.

Minho groaned as he stirred in his bed, his whole body awakening as he would have loved to spend more hours in bed. He yawned loudly, as he blindly tapped beside his pillow to find his phone. He looked at the time with narrowed eyes.

14:09

"Shit" He mumbled

It was already the afternoon, and he hadn't even started his bed.

He looked at the date, remembering the reason why Chan had given him a day off.

25/10

He sighed as he scratched his head.

He sat up on his bed, trying to wake his still dazed mind, as he put his feet on the cold tiles, wincing as he hated the feeling.

He took a long and cold shower, hoping it would wash his sleepiness off, then he threw some clothes on. He looked at himself in the mirror, trying to gather his confidence as this day was supposed to be his, only to sigh later on.

"Who am I fooling?" He muttered, rolling his eyes to himself as he looked in the mirror.

He got down the stairs as he hurried to the kitchen, looking around him and noticing no one.

Lately, the cases have been piling up, it may be 143th of the month and the members were busy as hell.

He expected to at least cross paths with one of them.

He made a bowl of cereal, before walking to the living room, but noticing that it was completely empty. He pouted to himself.

He felt lonely.

"Is someone here?" He yelled loudly, hoping it would resonate everywhere in the mansion.

A guard suddenly ran to him with wide eyes, thinking something had happened.

"Are you alright, sir?" He asked in shock

Minho blinked at him, annoyed that the only one here was someone he didn't know.

"Is anyone at home?" Minho asked

"They're all out, Sir" The guard responded

"Alright" He said with a disappointed sigh, walking to the couch and sitting down. He watched the news, thinking that maybe something would entertain him.

'It's going to be years we haven't seen news of the Hooded Killer. We suspect that he might have died in one of his intervention' A reporter said 'A lot of his fans are mourning him, missing him, here's one of them' A young woman came into view, a card with a photo of the hooded killer in between her arms 'We miss him so much-'

Minho scoffed as he changed the channel, not wanting to face the harsh truth of his miserable life.

"So do I, and I'm not complaining at television, you dickheads" He mumbled angrily, before putting his bowl down, hunger flying away from him.

He stood up and stirred more, a few bones cracking in the way, as he walked to the hall. He put on a warm coat, deciding to do something from his day.

It was already boring as fuck, and no one was here to keep him company, he might as well have a little walk and eat dinner somewhere out.

He spent his afternoon walking peacefully in the streets, sometimes stopping by a few parks, then walking again, going nowhere.