Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

When you’re sixteen, there are lots of places you imagine you’ll be five years down the line; finishing up your studies, starting the career you’ve always dreamed of, going to parties, young romance. If you had told sixteen-year-old Jeongin that five years in the future he’d be hunched over a public toilet puking his guts out, high out of his mind and without any friends left, he simply wouldn’t believe you.

If you had asked, Jeongin would say that in five years he’d be well on his was to being a kindergarten teacher and hopefully still coupled with the love of his life.

Life has a funny way of ignoring what we want though, it doesn’t always go the way we plan, no matter how hard you try to work around the challenges. Things always seem to hinder what we want, especially where Jeongin is concerned.

Another round of choking on vomit has Jeongin resting his sweaty forehead on the toilet seat, a steady flow of tears rolling down his cheeks. It’s disgusting, but with the boneless feeling in his body he can’t care to move. Maybe it’s fitting for him. He’s done nothing but disgust everyone in his life, so what’s getting a little too comfortable with a public toilet going to do to his reputation?

Distantly he can hear voices, a soft thump of the dance music coming from outside the bathroom as the party continues. Nobody had really wanted him there, no one would notice him passed out over the toilet until the cleaners came to kick him out eventually. The voices get closer as the door swings open, despite his weakened mind he could just make out what they were saying.

“Did you see where Jeongin went? He seemed kind of out of it.” The first spoke, stepping their way past the stall where the subject of the conversation was.

“He’s always out of it,” The other intruder stated, “And for fucks sake Hyunjin, you need to stop worrying about him. How many times do I have to tell you to stay away from that asshole?”

“I know, Jisung. Is it so bad to be worried, especially if you consider our history?” The first, Hyunjin, bit back rather sharply.

“Stop using that excuse. Whoever you knew him as is dead, he’s a volatile little freak now,” Jisung snapped back, raising the volume, “The farther you get away from him the better, the only thing he thinks about is the next time he’s gonna get high, not the people around him.”

Hyunjin only heaves a sigh in response, this was a frequent argument between the two of them. Neither wanted to admit the faults of their arguments, nor admit that they were wrong, so they just let the thoughts fester.

In the stall, Jeongin didn’t know whether he should laugh or cry. Jisung was somewhat right, he was selfish who did nothing but hurt anyone that tried befriending him. However, despite their animosity, he couldn’t help but wish that either of them would help him. Hold him, tell him everything was going to be alright and that he wasn’t the absolute train-wreck he viewed himself as.

That, of course, wouldn’t happen. They didn’t get along, and Jeongin had done everything in his power to push them away, dissuade their kindness and stamp out any glimmer of hope they could offer. He wanted to believe it wasn’t his fault, that he was doing the right thing keeping them at a distance, that for once in his life he could push the blame from himself. Sure, there were other hands at play that had gotten him in this position, but he couldn’t find it in himself to say it was anyone’s fault but his own.

A wet, wracking cough pushed another round of vomit from his body. He felt as though his body was on fire, clothes sticking to his frame from the sweat. Praying the other occupants of the bathroom would simply ignore him had been a fruitless endeavour, as soon enough a soft knocking was at the door.

“Jeongin?” It was Hyunjin, though he could hear Jisung swearing behind him, “Are you alright?”

“Fuck off.” Was all he could muster. It was weak at best, but after overhearing the prior conversation he knew they didn’t really care.

“See? What did I tell you? Leave him be and hope he either chokes on his vomit or gets his shit together.” Jisung huffed again, quickly retreating if the door opening and closing was any indication.

There was silence for a while, Jeongin had hoped they had both left the room finally. Jisung was right anyway, maybe he should just choke on his vomit and die here, he couldn’t think of a more fitting death for himself currently. Of course, with his current habits though, he wouldn’t put it past an overdose or alcohol poisoning being the one to finally take him out. Funny how coping mechanisms can be killers, they help for a while, numb the pain and become like an old friend who only betrays you in the end. Quite fitting really.

“I know you probably don’t want to hear it from me but you know any of us would be willing to help if you just asked, right?” Hyunjin’s voice startled Jeongin out of his self-deprecating thoughts, “I know it’s hard for you right now but whenever you need it we’ll be here.”

“Just leave it Hyunjin,” He spat out, “Leave me alone.”

“Okay, just think about it.”

“Yeah, whatever.” Jeongin garbles before another cough gets the better of him, body hunching right back over the toilet.

He hears Hyunjin’s steps, the door once again opening and closing, and finally he was alone again.

Despite his reservations, Jeongin does actually think about it. Letting the others in, telling them what’s happening and why he’s self-destructing. Finally getting the help he desperately wants from them, but he just can’t. There’s too much to unpack and too much risk involved, god only knows what would happen if he did involve them in this situation.

Besides, he’s dealt with it all alone up until now, they’re the ones who wanted to get into his life and wouldn’t take no for an answer when refused to reply to their questions. After spending years learning how to cope with his situation, to lie and fake it, to cover it all up, how could he let anyone into it? There were threats being held against him if he ever did choose to speak about it anyway, so hoping for a loving hand was just another one of his stupid delusions at this point. He could deal with it on his own.

The room was spinning as it was most days, every day filled with a stupor of alcohol and drugs whenever he couldn’t fill his spare time outside of busy schedules. His spare time was usually filled with certain appointments for the company, those appointments were the main reason for his almost permanent inebriation.

As the world continued spinning, Jeongin allowed himself to lie down on the cold tiles below him, once more he was reminded of how sickening his current state was, though he couldn’t seem to care.

His vision was blurred and patchy, his body felt like it was buzzing as he finally allowed himself to laugh. How far he had fallen from his dreams was humourless, but in that moment he couldn’t help but laugh. If he could go back into the past, he’d tell his younger self to stay far, far away from Hwang Hyunjin. No matter how much his heart swooned, falling in love with Hyunjin had to be the biggest mistake he had ever made. His love was the catalyst for the train-wreck that was Jeongin’s life.

If anyone had walked in and seen him on the floor they’d be sure to assume he was a madman, laughing to himself on a dirty bathroom floor that smelt of nothing but stale alcohol, his own vomit and the excrements of others. They would see a man far from the public image of Yang Jeongin, Korea’s sweetheart idol that was adored by the nation, the portrayal of innocence and youth.

If only for a moment he let himself feel the humour in his situation as the world crumbled around him. His vision was going again, maybe if he was lucky he really would choke on his own vomit while unconscious, maybe his death would end the suffering. No one that knew him outside of his idol life would mourn him, they’d only be able to say ‘good riddance’. His secrets would be buried alongside his body, no one would ever have to know how dirty his hands were, why he skyrocketed in popularity, why he was the way he was.

He knew that thought was a falsehood though. His death wouldn’t stop anything, they’d just find a replacement for his unique position. He wasn’t special, just convenient. If he was lucky they’d keep his secrets locked away, keep the blackmail to themselves.

As his thoughts and consciousness continued to fade, Jeongin smiled weakly. If he couldn’t find a way out, then he’d just have to accept his fate. Let the train-wreck take him out. Keep the others as far away as possible and pray to whatever God might be out there, that they weren’t the next one to be chosen.

..

As Jeongin walked through the company halls, he knew today was going to be an absolute shit fight. He had to meet with Minho to discuss a schedule for dance practices for his upcoming comeback, this in and of itself wasn’t a problem. Although he kept the elder at arm’s length, he was never cruel. Minho was business first, emotions later. The other man seemed to care for Jeongin from a distance, he didn’t push when Jeongin refused to answer his queries, he simply accepted his silence.

So, meeting with Minho wasn’t the problem, however the fact that his producers, 3racha, were to be present at the meeting was a problem. Those three, especially Chan and Jisung, were incredibly pushy about Jeongin’s behaviour and actions. They didn’t take no for an answer.

Chan wasn’t mean in his approach to Jeongin. He was kind and seemed to only want the best for Jeongin. This almost made it worse. He felt bad for being rude and trying to push Chan away, guilty over his disrespect towards the older man. Chan had been the first to reach out when Jeongin had started going off the rails, and while he held a lot of respect for the producer, he couldn’t help but fear him. His connections within the company always unsettled Jeongin, leading him to overthink how much Chan really knew about his situation, whether he was involved.

Where the eldest of the producing group was kind, Jisung, the youngest, was anything but. He was bitter and spiteful towards Jeongin. Harsh jabs were always aimed at him wherever Jisung was involved, he would be surprised if he were told that the other had a hand in the rumours that spread through the company. Jeongin often wonders if their two-month relationship was what made him unforgiving in his remarks.

If he were asked to pick a favourite of the producers, it would be Changbin. The man didn’t press him, somewhat like Minho, he only cared for Jeongin from a distance. Giving him time where needed, listening when Jeongin would give him a glance into the thoughts on his mind. He was caring, just not overbearingly so.

His sneakers padded softly down the hall as he made his way to the conference room where they’d be holding this meeting. The door swung open swiftly as he made his way in. The air was cold, whether that was the air-conditioning or the shared animosity hanging over the room, Jeongin couldn’t tell.

Soft sunlight came through the tall windows where the blinds had been opened to the warmth. The natural lighting and view of the outside world almost made the room feel more inviting than it really was, a subtle welcome to its occupants. It felt somewhat comforting, an attempt to break up the dread hanging over their heads, an effort to ease their discomfort.

Nothing though could shake the unease of walking into a room filled with people who each held a sense of hostility towards him. He scanned the room, taking a second to take in each of the men already there, when his eyes landed on a certain individual.

Hyunjin. Great. That was exactly what he needed, he was already not in the mood for an uncomfortable meeting. Trying to hide his distaste for the situation, he made his way to an empty chair that was far enough away from the others and unceremoniously dropped down onto it.
Without missing a beat, Jisung immediately barked out, “You’re thirty minutes late.”

“Cool.” Was all Jeongin felt necessary as a response, he wasn't in the mood to hide his hostility towards the other today. Clearly Jisung wasn’t going to, so why should he?

His eyes flit around the room with little grace, avoiding the looks of disdain from the others as best as he could. Whether they were worried or simply sick of his antics, he couldn’t find it in himself to care. Someone huffed a sigh, Minho by the sounds of it, papers were shuffled around breaking the silence.

“So,” Minho had started, before being abruptly cut off.

“Are you fucking high right now?” Jisung snapped out, once more trying to start a fight with the younger. If Jeongin didn’t know any better he would think maybe he’d shat in Jisung’s bed this moring. Finally he allowed his eyes to meet Jisung’s, unsurprised to find a glare being shot his way.

“No,” Jeongin scoffed, half laughing in his response as he levelled an even glare right back, “I’d much rather I was though, so if you’d kindly let this meeting get started so I can leave, I’d really appreciate it.”

There was a silent stare down between the two as tensions rose. He hadn’t wanted to get into a fight here, just wanted to get the meeting over and done with, but if Jisung was looking for a fight then he wasn’t going to back down. Before either could start up, Minho finally cut into the silence.

“Well, we’re here to discuss choreography for Jeongin’s upcoming comeback, we’ve got you guys here to see if there’s any way the tracks can be tweaked to enhance the choreo more,” Minho was calm, not letting any frustrations he may have be shown, “Hyunjin is also here as he’s helping me out with the dance side of things.”

Jisung finally broke his gaze away from the youngest to look towards Minho, quietly accepting that he was being told to shut up.

“Were there any specific thoughts you had then, Minho?” Chan asked after a beat.

“Well the first one that comes to mind is for Can’t Stop, we’ll need to discuss with Seungmin of course, but I think we need to make the chorus feel a little lighter?” Minho responded, looking towards his notes.

Chan nodded slowly in response, clicking away on his laptop for a moment before replying, “We can easily do that, change up some of the flow and make it airier.”

Their voices and discussion slowly faded into background noise as Jeongin turned to stare out the window. The view from the 8th story wasn’t anything grand, though it was beautiful. It gave a beautiful picture of the parks around them, people mulling about on their way to work or playing around with their children. What caught his attention more prominently was the birds that flittered about, some passing close by the window enough for Jeongin to get a good look at them.

The birds were carefree, flying about all day. He remembered vaguely being told when he was young that birds are the freest creatures, they spend their lives flying about going where they please. He often wondered what it would be like to be a bird. To not have to worry about where he needs to be, without the stress of what the company held over his head.

He certainly didn’t feel like a bird. Though if he were to be a bird, he’d reckon himself closer to a bird stuck in a cage. He wouldn’t have the room to spread his clipped wings, he’d be constantly poked and prodded by grubby hands, never to be let out of the bars which confined him.

If there was ever a dream that he had in his adult life, something to aspire towards, it would be freedom. To be released from the shackles that held him down, to breathe in the fresh air and to finally be able to smile without falsity. It was a pipedream, but a dream, nonetheless.

Turning his gaze back to the members in the room, he briefly wondered if they really would help him, if only he asked. Would they pull him out of the grave he had dug himself into? Reassure him that he is, in fact, still alive despite it all. Show him that there is love and warmth in the world, that he deserves to not just feel but embrace it?

What would their reactions be if he told them of his predicament? He wants to believe they’d reassure him that it wasn’t his fault. He was just a kid that got wrapped up in things he shouldn’t have, those that were meant to protect him had abandoned him so what was he meant to do?

Would they believe him when he finally spoke? Surely not, he’d broken all their trust a long time ago.

He lets the thought sit for a while, musing on his options. He could tell them. Explain how he’d been kicked out at sixteen for being gay, how living on the streets he had met people that offered him money and drugs for a certain price. He’d have to tell them that he was originally scouted by the company, not as an idol, but as a prostitute. He’d proven himself worthy to be more than that now, but that didn’t take away from the fact that he was still just that in all but name.

Just a cash cow for them at this point. They’d disguise these meetings as ‘appointments’. That’s all those out of the loop needed to know anyway. He was sure the others would be disgusted in him, ask why he couldn’t just say no. But the company was smart, he’d only been seventeen and vulnerable when they’d first picked him up. He was naïve and didn’t have anywhere else to go, so the promise of food, shelter and the funding of his newfound drug habit was all he needed.

Now as an adult, he knew better. He knew he was taken advantage of in his time of weakness. As he grew and tried to rebel, he was quickly shut down when he was shown that the company had pictures and videos of his abuse. Threatened into submission, should he try to escape or speak out about how he was mistreated, they’d leak all the footage, his reputation would be damned forever.

If he was to disobey them, they’d also threatened that they could just take one of his friends as a replacement, the first threat was Jisung, when they had been dating. He knew it was a bad idea, but at the time the elder was the perfect escape, he was sweet and the warmest touch he’d experienced in a long time. Though short-lived, their relationship had been something Jeongin cherished, until his ‘sneaking around’ got the better of him. When Jisung accused him of cheating, he didn’t have a response. Was his abuse cheating? Did it count if he wasn’t a willing participant?

Jeongin didn’t know how to categorise it. Instead of letting Jisung in, he let him go, pushed him away as far as he could, let him believe he was a filthy adulterer without remorse. It was safer that way for the both of them.

His eyes once more darted across the room, slowly focusing on each face that was occupying the same space as he. It felt unreal, these were people he couldn’t help but love, they had done nothing wrong but try to support him. He just couldn’t bear to let them in on the sick details of his life. It was nice to think that maybe deep down, each of them did still care about him, that they didn’t want to watch him crash and burn.

Until his eyes landed on Hyunjin. Exactly who he didn’t want to be thinking about right now. If his stupid, sixteen-year-old self hadn’t fallen in love, he wonders if he’d even be here. Probably not.

A harsh knock at the door startles him out of his pondering, Minho calls for them to come in and the door once more swings open.

It’s his manager.

Shit.

Shit, shit, shit.

Not now, please, anything but this right now.

He’d rather be stuck in this room of people he’s pushed to the edge of their patience, being admonished for how he was acting.

The manager, Kangho, briefly greets the room before making his way to Jeongin. His eyes are cold, as he claps his hand down on the young man’s shoulder he leans down.

“There’s an appointment you can’t miss, Jeongin.” He whispers harshly, the grip on his shoulder tightening.

Jeongin pales, he can feel his façade of carelessness drop, if only for a second, before he neutralises his expression once more. The last thing he needs is for the others to see his fear, be able to read him. He just nods solemnly before turning back to the other meeting participants.

“Sorry, appointment time. I’ll make it up in my own time,” He prays his voice isn’t shaking, tries to steady himself. Hides his hands as to not allow the tremors to be shown.

“Are you kidding? Why would you make an appointment when you know you’ve already got a meeting to attend?” Jisung’s getting angry again.

Jeongin just wants to laugh, like he had a choice in whether he attended these appointments. If only he could just say no.

“Mandatory, sorry.” Jeongin pulls his lips tight as he speaks, hoping it somehow resembles a smile. He stands to leave with Kangho, grabbing his bag he didn’t bother to say good-bye to them as he exits the room.

“Fucking whatever.” Jisung sighs out, looking away from them. It was always like this. Jeongin barely showed up to these things, regardless of whether they were essential to his career or not. When he did finally show his face, he was always ushered out before any real progress was made, it was absurd.

There was an uncomfortable silence between the remaining five, each unsure of what to make of the situation, what they could say or do to ease the tension. Minho and Chan shared an anxious look, neither were sure how to approach the topic of Jeongin and his oddities. It was quiet until Hyunjin finally broke the tension.

“That was weird right?” He started, “Jeongin looked as though he was going to be sick the second Kangho stepped through the door.”

He was met will silence as the others simply stared, unable to think of how to answer.
“He’s always had a weird relationship with Kangho,” It was Changbin this time, “I don’t know what’s going on with him but it’s been like this since the beginning, and if Jeongin isn’t going to speak up and tell us what his problem is…”

There was nothing any of them could do was left unspoken, a silent resignation.

It was true, without the knowledge that Jeongin held tight to himself, there wasn’t much they could do to help him. When they did try, the younger just pushed them away. He screamed and kicked and punched his way out of their care, out of their pity and out of their lives. If it was something he wished to get help with, they couldn’t push it any farther, they were already at a breaking point with their relationship. Jeongin had done everything in his power to get them as far away as possible.

There was no steady decline in the relationship on Jeongin’s part, it was as though a thread had snapped and each person in their group of friends had become enemy number one. One day he had just snapped, and suddenly they could not get a word in otherwise.

No one had an answer for how to fix this. They could only hope that with time they’d be able to overcome it, to show Jeongin that help was there. For now though, the five just sat in silence. One step at a time, even if Jeongin was making sure they took two steps back.

"Don't think too hard about it Hyunjin, they probably just took his out so he can go get high and fuck whatever new prick he's seeing." Jisung laughed humourlessly.

Hyunjin wasn't convinced that was true. Something was wrong and he was determined to figure out what it was.

..

When the only things keeping you alive are drugs, alcohol and dissociation, the days tend to blend into one. The time between yesterday and tomorrow doesn’t exist. It feels as though you don’t exist. There’s a detachment from the self, it’s like you’re floating above yourself, watching as your own life floats by.

That’s how Jeongin felt. The reflection in the mirror wasn’t his own, it was someone else, something else. Blown out eyes stared wildly back at him, knotted hair sticking up in multiple directions. One eye was heavily bruised, he could barely open it without pain. A swift punch to the face after an attempt to avoid his last appointment had earnt him that, a solid reminder too his place in this world.

A broken sigh left his mouth as he eased himself onto the bathroom floor, he knew today that he had to go back to the company. He had dance practice with Minho, hopefully it was just Minho, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to handle Felix right now. Despite his love for the man who could only be reckoned to the sun itself, his current disposition wouldn’t allow him to appreciate it.

Felix was all warmth and gummy smiles that Jeongin couldn’t bear to attack. No matter how far he pushed the others away, he couldn’t find it in himself to use his regular vile tactics to keep him out.

And God forbid Hyunjin would be there. No matter how hard he pushed him, Hyunjin just would not let go. Ironic, considering he had been the first to abandon him when shit hit the fan back home. He wanted to play innocent, crawl his way back into the youngers heart, Jeongin refused to receive any of the charms pushed his way. It hurt to be betrayed, and if some sense of guilt was in Hyunjin’s mind, then so be it. Let him be guilty.

The tiles seeped ice into Jeongin’s knees, a stark reminder that he needed to move, get ready. If he wasn’t still half out of his mind on whatever cocktail of drugs he’d consumed last night, he might have moved with more urgency. He only had twenty minutes to get to the practice room, however, he decided to give himself some semblance of grace.

After being beaten into submission last night, he’d been forced to go through with his appointment regardless. The man hadn’t been kind, they never were, but after his show of defiance, things had gotten violent. He didn’t know who this guy was, wasn’t even granted his name, but if there was one thing he knew, it seemed the man had a penchant for rough, aggressive sex.

His dignity was stripped from him along with his clothes the second he entered the room; he was slapped around before being thrown onto the bed. It was always painful, but god at least most people had the mercy of some prep and lube before forcing themselves onto him.

It had hurt of course, every nerve ending felt as though it was on fire. Most of the nameless men that had their way with him took their time, they paid to have their time with him so naturally they wanted to get the most for their money. Whoever this guy was didn’t seem to care for that, he was ruthless from beginning to end. Calloused hands dug too sharply into his hips; they’d be a reminder for the next week as the bruises blossomed before fading.

The pace was relentless, each thrust was pleasureless, punching the air from Jeongin’s lungs. The lack of oxygen made everything hazy, he could barely get out a whine when all he wanted to do was scream out. Stop, please.

It seemed though luck was for once on his side, for as abruptly as it began, it ended. The man got up, gave Jeongin one more hit across the back of the head before leaving wordlessly. He was left there to curl in on himself and sob. He hated this, so, so much. He just allowed himself to lay there and cry, try and recover before the boss would walk in.

As if speaking the devil into existence, a taller man than the one that had just used him walked in. Clothes were thrown onto the bed unceremoniously, along with a sheet of pills.

“Clean yourself up and get out.” The words were spat out with little empathy, before the boss once again left him.

Jeongin didn’t know his name, told only to call him boss. The boss was tall and well built, he also wasn’t afraid to use his strength to his advantage. No other person scared him more, the mastermind behind all Jeongin’s abuse. He’d met the man while on the streets, selling his body for whatever drugs and cash he could get. When given a secure offer of food, shelter and drugs he’d jumped at the chance, who cared if it was a stupid idea to trust a stranger, he was desperate at that point.

A knocking at the door shook him from his shaky recollection of events, the pounding was incessant, it’d be Kangho for sure. Great. As he pulled himself back off the tiles, he took one last look at the stranger in the mirror before stepping back into his room. Grabbing his sunglasses and a black hoodie from the bed, he made his way to the door to finally answer the man.

“You’re gonna be late.” Kangho said without so much of a greeting. Jeongin just pushed his glasses on and with a shrug walked straight past his manager. After being beaten by him yesterday, he didn’t care to give him an answer, simply decided to make his way to the car in silence.

The car trip was quiet, nothing to remember. Building after building passed, the city was bustling in the early morning light, people wandering about the streets all with places to be and things to do. In this moment, he couldn’t help the epiphany of his own insignificance. There were so many people in this world, had already been so many. As far as the universe was concerned, he was no more than a blip.

Every single person they passed had their own lives; they had morals, thoughts and feelings. Each person was living a life just as complex as his own, what made his life any more special than theirs? Was he more important just because of a little fame? Was the tragedy of his life any more harrowing than that of those who surrounded him?

He felt an odd sense of alienation in that moment. These people all had friendships; interwoven relationships not torn apart by words better left unsaid. How could he aspire to be anything of remembrance if he couldn’t even let others in?

It was almost funny really, how he craved a connection to those around himself, despite doing everything in his power to estrange them. Whatever. That bridge had long been crossed and burnt to ashes. He wished he had stepped out of the ashes of his old self like a phoenix. Instead, the ashes never died out, he was set on fire along with his younger self. Destined only to succumb to the anguish.

Drowning in his own self-pity wouldn’t help any, but what else was there to do? When he’d severed every human connection he had, it wasn’t like there was a way to reach out for help and reassurance.

Caught in his own mind, he hadn’t realised the car had come to a halt.

“Get out.” Kangho snapped, little patience for Jeongin as always.

Without a word he got out of the car, he didn’t feel like speaking. Even less so to Kangho. He just had to get through this practice without any hiccups, then he’d be done for the day, could crawl back into his bed and forget about the world. Maybe down a bottle of vodka in the process.

The company was alive with people, staff and trainees ambling around the halls. Everyone had a job to do, he did too. But it didn’t feel like it. Would his removal from this tiresome routine really change anything?

Now wasn’t the time to be getting lost in thought again. He’d been doing that too much lately. Thinking. He’d have to change that, up his dosage of whatever pills he could get and down them all with alcohol. That’d fix the problem.

The door to the practice room was already open, Minho was probably inside and waiting on him. It wasn’t that he enjoyed being late, he used to hate it really. Once more, life just had a funny way of changing things, changing people. Getting hung up on it also wouldn’t be helpful, he just needed to step into the room, get this done.

Minho was inside, scrolling on his phone quietly. One thing Jeongin always appreciated was the elders unquestioning patience for him. He was never angry, if he was it never showed.

“I’m here, hyung.” Jeongin announced as he stepped into the threshold, dropping his bag without care by the door.

Said other looked up from his phone and nodded, seemingly sending off one last message before making his way over to the computer. Jeongin wandered over to watch, see what song he was going to start with. It seemed he was just trying to find the right playlist for their warmup.

Jeongin backed off to let Minho find what he wanted to, going to the centre of the practice room. It took another minute or so before soft music could be heard and Minho made his way over to the middle of the room too, giving Jeongin a nod as he started the warmup.

The stretches were simple, starting from the arms, slowly loosening any tightness and kinks left in his muscles. There was no talking, just whatever quiet melody was being sung in the background, it was peaceful. They moved onto the legs, lowering into a deep lunge, Jeongin couldn’t help but wince slightly, if the elder noticed he didn’t say anything.

Their warmup ended with a set of jumping jacks to get the blood pumping; it wasn’t until then that a sweat started to break. The new moisture led to his sunglasses slipping slightly, quickly adjusting them to avoid showing his newly acquired bruise.

“Sunglasses staying on?” Minho queried as he made his way back over to the computer, stopping the music to get started with the actual practice.

“Yeah, it’s a new trend hyung, you should try it.” Jeongin quipped from his position on the floor. The hard wood wasn’t necessarily comfortable but with the way his head was already spinning, he’d rather stay on the ground while having the option.

Minho just snorted in response, a small smile gracing his face. It was nice to see Jeongin in a somewhat good mood, it was such a rare occurrence at this point. He missed the kid he’d first met when joining the company, though he knew there was no hope in getting him back at this point.

It’s not that Minho didn’t think the younger wasn’t still himself, nor did he pretend to know what happened to cause the change. It didn’t hurt to reminisce on the smiley kid he’d first met though, or to hope that one day the boy would find peace and overcome whatever was troubling him. His thoughts were cut short by a head popping in the open door.

“What’s a new trend?” The new addition spoke.

Jeongin turned his head to see who had spoken through the door.

Fuck.

He really couldn’t have a day without it turning to shit could he?

“The sunglasses, Hyunjin.” Minho deadpanned, thinking nothing of the situation, he turned back to the computer.

It wasn’t that he hated Hyunjin, if anything he wished he truly could. He knew it was bitter to hold a grudge from a broken teenage romance, realistically it was quite stupid. But in saying that, he couldn’t help but blame Hyunjin for his current predicament.

Had he not fallen in love with the elder, he wondered how different his life may be. Once more, he knew it seemed ridiculous, to truly place all the blame on Hyunjin. They’d been teenagers, in the moment it had been thrilling, sneaking around in their tiny, conservative hometown, an adrenaline rush every time they snuck around to see one another.

It hurt to think about. Hurt to remember how much love and trust he had placed in the older man, only to have it torn away. It hadn’t been Hyunjin’s fault, not really anyway. Both of their families were devout catholics that shunned any ideas of progression, the thought of having a gay child was unimaginable for them. They had met in the same church that cursed their existence, being the only kids around the same age they had grown close rather quickly.

Closer than either of their families were aware of. Jeongin had known he way gay for a few years, and at fifteen, he broke down in Hyunjin’s arms while telling him, knowing that his family would never accept him for it. The elder simply held him as he cried, comforting him for as long as he needed, and when the sobbing had subsided, he admitted that he was also gay.

Jeongin had already had a little crush that he tried to bury, but after this, the two were borderline inseparable outside of classes, and he knew it was getting past a case of puppy love. He didn’t know if he was being obvious about it, but after a week, Hyunjin had confessed that he liked the younger and wanted to try dating, as hard as it would be to avoid their parents’ disdain.

He had jumped at the chance. This was all he had wanted, a chance to be with who, at the time, he believed was the love of his life, homophobic parents and town be damned. And it was. It was all he had hoped for in the moment.

Hyunjin was kind, the thrill of being with the elder was just an added bonus. He knew it wasn’t healthy to be forced to hide their relationship forever, but they had plans. Sure, Jeongin still had a few years left at school, but when he was finished, they’d both move to Seoul for university. They’d be free to be themselves, irrevocably and unapologetically.

It was a month after Jeongin’s 16th birthday when everything went wrong. Considering the amount of time the two spent together, neither of their families batted an eye if there was an extra addition to the house for a night. Of course, none of them knew how deep the relationship ran, choosing to believe that only child Hyunjin had simply imprinted on the younger, taking him on as the brother he never got.

Whether that was how they truly viewed it, or if that was how it was chosen to be viewed for the sake of their own comfort didn’t matter. Especially not after that night.

After dinner, the two had headed up to Hyunjin’s room. What had started as a few quickly kisses had gotten a little hot and heavy. In the midst of their own world, they hadn’t noticed the opening of a door.

That’s when all hell broke loose.

“What in God’s name is happening here?!” Hyunjin’s mother had screamed, “I knew you were no good!”

It was all a blur for Jeongin from that point. Screams and yells from both sets of parents. Jeongin didn’t know when his own parents had arrived, but the yelling had subsided as he was dragged from Hyunjin’s house by his father.

Hyunjin had been silent the entire time. Why hadn’t he tried to defend Jeongin? Hyunjin’s parents had openly accused the younger of turning their son gay, he was sure there were slurs thrown in the mix of insults that were being thrown at him. The elder boy, his boyfriend for God’s sake, wouldn’t even meet his eyes.

Was he just going to let all the blame lay on Jeongin? Did he believe what his parents were screaming?

His parent’s car was silent as they drove him home, and he couldn’t help but wonder. Was it all a lie? What was going to happen to their plans now?

In the weeks that followed, he was essentially placed on house arrest. He was removed from his school under threats of disciplinary action from Hyunjin’s parents, should he ever show his face around their son again. He was sat down at the dinner table with his parents when the topic was broached.

“Jeongin,” His father had began, a serious look on his face, “We are going to send you to a therapy centre. They’re going to fix you.”

Fix him? Fix what, exactly? It took him a moment to realise the kind of therapy they were discussing.

“No.” Was all he said, voice breaking off at the end. He knew what this meant, knew it wasn’t going to ‘fix’ him in any way. They couldn’t be serious about this, surely not.

“You’re going to go, Jeongin. This is the only way we can help you.” His father’s voice was raising now, clearly this was a statement and not a discussion.

“I’m not going. You can’t make me go there, it isn’t going to change anything,” Jeongin’s voice was also raising now, his desperation clear, “Whether you like it or not I’m gay, no amount of therapy is going to change that.”

Jeongin couldn’t believe this. Of course, he knew his parents were homophobic, knew they wouldn’t accept him. But was it so wrong to have hope? He felt stupid in that moment, like anything he had ever placed faith in was a massive lie.

“You either go or you get out of my house. I’m not having a filthy sinner like you under my roof unless you’re willing to change.” Though his tone was lowered, it was clear his father was completely serious in that moment. That he meant it.

He couldn’t understand, how could falling in love be a sin? Was he to be doomed to hell for just being himself, for feeling an emotion that every human seemed to claim to be the purest of all? Then so be it, if neither party of the conversation were willing to change, to come to an agreement, then he may as well leave. If his parents were so willing to let him go, for something so simple as falling in love, then he’d go.

“Fine.” Was all Jeongin had said before getting up from the table, rushing to his room. He didn’t know what he was going to do from this point, really, but he didn’t see another choice in that moment.

Sure, he didn’t exactly have any money, he couldn’t even book a hotel room yet, but he’d work it out as he went. All he packed was a few pairs of clothes, his laptop, phone and their respective chargers. He’d figure it out as he did it.

His face was wet with tears, but he couldn’t look back now. Wordlessly he left the loveless house, he couldn’t face them, not again.

Maybe it was a stupid decision, one made in the heat of the moment, but at that time, it felt like the only decision there was. He didn’t know where he was going, he definitely wasn’t thinking about where he’d end up in the future, but that didn’t matter. Right now, he just needed to go.

“Jeongin.” It was Minho.

“Yeah?” He looked up at the elder, still sitting on the floor.

“Done daydreaming?” Minho asked. It wasn’t malicious in any way, almost an attempt at humour.

Jeongin just nodded, picking himself off of the floor. He hadn’t meant to go back into his head and think about the past like that, though it was a frequent occurrence as of late. Whether Hyunjin’s insistence to always be present around him was a catalyst for that or not, he wasn’t quite sure.

He truly didn’t want to place blame on the elder, as he tended to with most other issues. Chalk it up to coincidence maybe, get the accusatory thoughts out of his head.

“Good. Let’s get started then.” Minho picked the conversation back up before Jeongin could spiral in thought again, “Seungmin’s got a schedule, so Hyunjin’s gonna stand in for him while we practice can’t stop today.”

Right.

This was fine, he could move past it surely.

With just a nod, they moved on to learning the choreography. It wasn’t anything crazy, which he was thankful for, unsure if he couldn’t handle much more than basic moves right now.

Surprisingly, Hyunjin’s presence actually made the practice move by smoother. He’d be stupid not to commend the elder for his skills, sure, Minho had years of practice on him, but there was just something so captivating about the way Hyunjin moved. The sheer focus in his eyes as he committed the movements to memory.

It was beautiful to watch, he was sure he could wax poetic about the ways in which Hyunjin moved. About the way he just was, he had certainly grown well into his looks, it’d be ignorant not to notice. And yeah, maybe Jeongin still had some left-over feelings for the man. Regardless of how much he had tried to push it out, create an environment of abhorrence toward him, there was a little corner of his heart that just couldn’t let go.

Pushing his focus back to the practice, he got ready to give it his all. Everything was going well, all things considered. He knew his movements were sloppy, the aftereffects of the pills from last night finally wearing off, but the others didn’t seem to mind, focused more on the remembrance of choreography rather than the perfection of it.

They could clean it up later anyway, right now was more a baseline than anything. It wasn’t until around the fifth time going all out that there was an interruption.

Jeongin’s sunglasses had finally decided to fling themselves from his face, much to his frustration. It was whatever. For now, he was just going to finish up this go-through and hope neither party would make comment. Of course, though, Jeongin wasn’t that lucky, a concerned expression marring Hyunjin’s facial features.

“What’s with the bruise?” The man queried, clearly worried.

Jeongin just shook his head, before replying, “Nothing. Just got a bit mouthy with someone.”

It wasn’t a lie. In Kangho’s eyes he was being mouthy, a petulant brat that needed a reminder of his place. So no, it wasn’t a lie, an omission of truth if anything.

Hyunjin didn’t look convinced, however he didn’t push it for once, just nodding as he diverted his attention to the centre marker on the floor as if it was the most interesting thing in the room.

He almost missed the elder’s eyes on him, the worry for his wellbeing. Both sides of his brain seemed to come to a standstill in that moment, the divide between his distrust and lingering feelings towards the other blurring. In that moment, he wished for nothing but to tell him exactly what had happened.

Wanting to scream, cry and curse him for how he had sat in silence when Jeongin was being torn to shreds by their parents, how his lack of defence had led the younger to this point. He also wanted to just be held by him, comforted and told everything was going to be okay, as he had when Jeongin came out.

Tell the man everything that had happened, why he was the way he was. Have his support in trying to take down his oppressors.

Jeongin couldn’t allow for that to happen though. God only knows what would happen if he finally spoke aloud what had happened to him. He couldn’t bear to let Hyunjin brunt the force of his abuser’s wrath. Maybe it was that little shred of love he still held on to, he didn’t know what he would do if Hyunjin was caught in the crossfire of his life.

“I think we’re good to wrap up for the day.” Minho spoke once more, “We’ve got it all down for now, so we’ll wait until we can get Seungmin and the dancer’s for blocking and cutting.”

Both the others nodded in agreement, moving to collect their things. It was silent, but for once it wasn’t awkward, it was almost calming. As he collected his belongings and slid his glasses back on to hide his blackened eye, Jeongin turned back to the others.

“Bye hyungs.” Was all he said, as he exited the room. If Hyunjin broke out in a smile at being addressed without hatred for the first time in years by the younger, he didn’t see it, heading down the hall to go home. He needed to just sleep, forget about his life and the nagging feelings of adoration that only seemed to grow.

..

“Well, he was in a surprisingly good mood today.” Minho commented once he was sure the youngest was out of earshot.

“Yeah, he was.” Hyunjin followed up, “It was nice to see again.”

“Absolutely. I don’t think he’s doing any better, but if his moods up I’m not going to push.”

Hyunjin wasn’t sure how to respond. He knew his own pushing for answers had only seemed to push Jeongin further away than he already was, but he couldn’t help it. He was worried, even scared for the young man. Sure, Jeongin was an adult, he could make his own choices and look after himself, but something felt gutturally wrong.

“I’m worried about him.” Hyunjin said after a moment of contemplation, “I know pushing him isn’t going to help, but I can’t help but feel something’s off.”

“I know, but as you said, we can’t push him. He only pushes back harder whenever someone tries, I’d love to help him with whatever’s going on, but if he won’t tell us what it is, then we can only sit and support from the sidelines.” The elder answered, eyes focused on Hyunjin.

“But what if it’s something he doesn’t think he can tell us? Surely there’s something we can do to help him without forcing him to talk about it?” Hyunjin countered, somewhat unsure himself.

“Hyunjin, I know you guys have a history that you don’t talk about, I get you think you know him better than us, but trust me when I tell you to leave it,” He was completely sincere in his words, “It might be hard but I have to reiterate. If he won’t tell us what’s going on or how to help him, we can’t do anything about it.”

“I wish you guys would stop bringing that up, sure I do still love him because of our past but it’s more than that hyung.” Hyunjin knew it was inevitable for their past to be bought up in these situations, his unequivocal bias showing.

But really, it wasn’t just his own guilt eating him up. Even if his own guilty conscience was at play, he was still worried, something was wrong and he wanted to find out what it was. He wanted to help Jeongin, whatever help meant in this situation.

“I know Hyunjin, but seriously think about what I’ve said. I don’t want you getting hurt.” It stung to hear, he knew it wasn’t meant in an ill-mannered way.

It was true that Jeongin had a habit of hurting those that tried to get close. Hyunjin knew that, but it didn’t deter him from wanting to reach out and hold him.

Gathering his belongings from the floor, Hyunjin got up to leave, mustering a quick goodbye to the elder dancer before making his escape. He wasn’t sure how but he was determined to find a way to help the younger, whether it meant finding a way for him to talk or simply showing that he wanted to help, he was going to do it.

Opting to take the stairs, giving himself a chance to think, he contemplated his choices. He could try and talk to Jeongin, push him to talk about whatever was happening. That seemed like a bad idea though, considering the track record of that advance. It hadn’t worked for anyone yet, and he wasn’t stupid enough to believe that he’d be the special one to make the tactic work. Hell, it’d probably work even less if it was him.

Option two, attempt to continue on how he had today. Make no overt effort to pull Jeongin into conversation, just allow him to enter wherever he wanted to, continue to build a slow connection up as though they were strangers again. It might take longer but it was certainly a safer option to take than the prior one.

Yelling on the second floor pulled him out of his musings, he couldn’t hear what was being yelled, but he could tell it was incredibly heated. Normally, he’d ignore it, but with his current concerns over Jeongin, he couldn’t help but let his curiosity get the better of him, stopping at the base of the stairs.

He still couldn’t quite hear what was being said, so he nervously poked his head around the corner to see if he could at least see who it was.

It was Jeongin and his manager. Shit.

A slap resounded through the hallway and Hyunjin had to stop himself from yelling out in that moment. Just what the fuck was going on? It looked like Jeongin was used to this, about to try and respond before Kangho grabbed the young man by the neck, pushing him up against the wall.

The manager was choking him, leaning over and saying something that Hyunjin couldn’t hear. He pulled out his phone quietly, beginning to record so he could prove to the others that something was seriously wrong, that they needed to help somehow.

It seemed like forever before the elder man let go, Jeongin slumping to the floor as soon as he was let go, coughing as his breath came back. If he wasn’t scared still, Hyunjin likes to think he’d run straight over to the young man, take him far, far away from the situation he was in. But in that moment he couldn’t make himself move, hoping that his shaky recording of the incident would at least be able to get him a step ahead in the future.

He watched silently as Jeongin was yanked to his feet by Kangho, practically being dragged into the room before them. Hyunjin pushed himself back into the stairwell, hoping to god he wasn’t seen.

After a moment of recovering from what he had just witnessed, he booked it down the rest of the stairs and out of the company building, until he was a block or so away from the building. Quickly he pulled his phone back up, hastily making his way through his contacts until he found the right person, pressing call.

“Come on, come on, please pick up.” Hyunjin nervously muttered as he slowed to a walk.
After a few rings, he was losing hope, until finally the person on the other end picked up the call. Relief flooded through him, he needed to get the others to see this, he knew he couldn’t tackle this alone.

“Channie-hyung, can you please set up a meeting with everyone? Not at the company, and without Jeongin please? I have something I need to show you guys.”

..

Jeongin seriously couldn’t catch a break. He had hoped that after yesterday’s rough appointment, they’d at least give him a day to recover. Naturally though, anything Jeongin hoped for was bound to slip through the cracks like sand through a broken hourglass.

He had been rushing to leave the company when Kangho had pulled him towards a room on the second floor. This room had been set up especially for his meetings, so he knew what being dragged there meant. The room itself was inconspicuous, looking nothing different from any other seminar room the company had. The rooms for his meetings, however, were held behind a secret door that was shielded from onlookers by plants made to simply look like décor.

It was almost ridiculous, something out of a horror series, where the big evil corporation had a secret, hidden room where they kept all their kidnapping victims. Real original. But it wasn’t a horror movie, it was real. And as far as he knew, he was the only current victim this room laid eyes upon. The boss however had threatened him with the possibility of more people being bought here should he disobey, naturally, he kept his word and sucked up whatever came his way. Praying to a god that he longer held faith in to keep it so.

“You have another appointment today.” Was all Kangho said as he dragged the young man towards the door.

“Why?” Jeongin retaliated, trying to tug his arm away, “Was yesterday not enough? Seriously, shouldn’t I at least be able to have a break after how rough that guy was?”

“It isn’t your place to question, shut up and get in.” Kangho responded.

“No, I don’t want to. Yesterday was fucking ridiculous, I’m still in pain I can’t do another appointment like this.” Now Jeongin was angry, he knew getting mad wouldn’t do him any favours, but he couldn’t help it.

“You’ll get into that room now, if you know what’s good for you.” The elder man was also getting angry, looking ready to snap.

“No!” He yelled, finally snatching his arm away from the others grip.

A slap.

Kangho had hit him. Again. For the second day in a row. This was getting out of hand, sure they were forcing him to sleep with countless men for their own monetary gain, but rarely were they the ones hitting him. He opened his mouth to yell at the man towering over him once more but was cut off in an instant, a hand wrapped around his throat as he was slammed against the wall.

“Listen here you little prick, you’re going into this appointment whether you like it or not, you have a comeback on the way, and it’d be such a shame if certain pictures of you were to be leaked right now.” It was the same threats as always.

The hand around his throat was tightening, restricting his airflow even more than it had been previously. Jeongin had spots forming in his vision, hands reaching up to claw at Kangho, do anything he could in a feeble attempt to get his vision back. The elder man was strong though, all of Jeongin’s struggles were in vain.

“Of course, if you can’t take it anymore, we can always replace you.” The threat continued. “Any of those pretty dancers on your team would pull in just as much.”

He tried to shake his head, though it came out more like a squirm than anything. The black spots in his vision were only increasing in size, if this didn’t end soon, he was going to pass out. Kangho tightened his grip once more, only holding on for a few more seconds, before letting Jeongin drop, body crumpling like a pile of clothes on the floor. It burned as air flowed into his lungs again, unable to stop himself from spasming and hacking away.

Without time to recover, his head still fuzzy, Jeongin’s arm was used to pull him off of the floor, shaking legs and all. His head was spinning as his body attempted to get the lost oxygen back, despite his semi-blurred vision, he could swear he had seen someone just around the corner. Maybe he was finally losing his mind, he wouldn’t be shocked by that at this point.

Just as he thought he could catch a glimpse, he was roughly dragged into the room, and as he looked back, whoever had been there was gone. Yeah. He thinks having hope that there was someone looking out for him was another useless folly of his, he’d probably just fried his brain to the brink of lucidity, he was seeing things at this point. No use putting false hope into something that wasn’t real.

Alternatively, he could let himself fall into the delusion. Allow himself the comfort of finally letting go of whatever grip he had left on his sanity. He’s sure it’d be a freeing feeling, that it’d feel a lot like a lost embrace. It’d feel like coming home.

Once more torn from his thoughts, he was forced into a chair before Kangho handed over a filled cup. It looked like some type of cola, carbonation bubbling up through the dark brown liquid, almost making the drink look as though it were glittering.

“Drink it. Your customers today want you out of it.” Was all Kangho said before disappearing behind the hidden door. He must have already locked the only exit.

So, it was drugged. There was no way around that, no logical loophole that could lead to another conclusion. He’d had drugged sessions before, of course he had. Though in his memory he had never been handed a roofied drink and willingly downed it. Well, it might not be rohypnol, god only knows what these guys would pump into him to shut him up, it was just the first thing he thought of.

In his mind, he had two choices. One, he refuses to drink it. That would probably lead to a beating, if recent events were anything to go by, it seemed the higher ups had less and less patience for his antics recently. Choice two, he drinks the drink, will probably be out of his mind for however many hours, and will likely not remember any of subsequent events.

Both options were bleak, however faced with the option of being beaten or not remembering what was about to happen, it seemed the latter was probably the safer bet to take. After a second of inspecting the drink, he picked it up and downed it as quickly as he physically could. Better to get this over and done with.

It just tasted like cola. Most definitely rohypnol then. At least that gave him time to calm down before he blacked out. It wasn’t the most optimal situation, but he’d already downed the drink so there was no use in fighting as the drug took over. It didn’t seem he’d be able to have time on his own though, as soon after Kangho came back into the room.

“Get up and go into the room, I’m not carrying you if you pass out in here.” Was all he said before once more slipping into the hidden room.

With a sigh, Jeongin got to his feet, heading over to the doorway. He knew it was only a matter of time before the drug took effect, so he may as well listen. It hadn’t been in his system long enough yet, leaving a heavy feeling in his chest of the imminent danger he was in. Though there wasn’t much difference from any of his other appointments, the knowledge that he would be completely lacking inhibitions scared him.

He was ushered into the room, told simply to strip and lay down on the bed. And so, he did. It wasn’t unusual for him to be laid bare across this bed, discarded like an object. This bed had seen so much cruelty, he felt as though the mattress held his secrets, the frame held the shattered pieces of soul he had lost, the interchangeable sheets felt as though they were an extension of his body.

Made to be used. It didn’t matter how often they were washed; the stains couldn’t be removed. There were rips and tears, they were seeped in too many bodily fluids to be named. And when they were no longer of use, when they were too dirty, too tattered to cover the filthy mattress, they were thrown away. Ditched in a bin and taken far, far away from this hellish room.

Would his body one day become of no use, just like the soiled sheets he laid upon? Would he be deemed too broken, too vulgar to be touched any longer? At this point he felt as though his body was already ruined beyond repair, just as his brain was. How could he ever learn to accept a loving embrace? He honestly doubted anyone would want to even look at him if they knew just how he was torn apart with every meeting. If they knew the depths of depravity he had sunken to just for the chance to survive.

This didn’t feel like survival though. It felt a lot more like torture. At least in survival there is hope, uphill battle though it might be, but that glimmer of hope for the future, for a better life and to overcome the trauma was still there.

Jeongin didn’t have that. Not anymore. He may have held onto that little thread in the past, but after five years of being torn apart at the seams, what was there to hold onto? It didn’t seem that any attempts he made to better his situation had any effect, so why bother? It wouldn’t make any difference trying to fight, so maybe he should just give in. Let himself get lost in his mind, and just accept there was no leaving. This was it; this was all he was good for.

Slowly, he began to feel his senses leave him. The ceiling he had been staring at began to shift out of focus, anything he looked at was blurry. No matter how hard he focused on an object, the ability to tell what it was seemed out of reach.

He was only vaguely aware of the door being opened, it wasn’t until he felt rough hands on his skin, moving him, did he notice that he wasn’t alone. His body was moved around, limp like a ragdoll. There didn’t seem to be any use in trying to move his own limbs, his body feeling like it was made of lead.

If he were more aware of himself, he’d probably be horrified. However, in that moment, the feeling of his body being weighed down along with the floating feeling of his mind, juxtaposing one another, he couldn’t focus on that thought at all.

There were faces in front of him, words were being spoken, hands were on his body. He couldn’t seem to hold onto any of it, there wasn’t a single ounce of retention. If he was being spoken to, spoken at or about, he couldn’t tell. The sounds were far off, so was the touch. It was as though all sensations had been lost, he was paralysed, the feeling of warmth and movement was there, yet it was impossible to place just where it was coming from, exactly where on his body was being touched.

It wasn’t long before his foggy reality began to fade. Beginning as a sort of vignette on his vision, although he was sure he hadn’t been lucid for some time, there was still something left, something to hold onto. As that left him, he just hoped this would be over soon.

Surely, they’d get sick of him soon after he passed out, when the only sign of life left was his heartbeat. He couldn’t imagine there was much joy in having their way with a next to lifeless body. Though, considering the types of people he’d met during these years of exploiting his body, he couldn’t be sure of that. So many of these people were so sick that he didn’t doubt some of them probably found it more enticing.

What a laughable existence he had. Whatever. It was time for him to let go of his self-pity and just accept it. Letting the last of his consciousness slip, he hoped for a better tomorrow, lost hope be damned.

..

Hyunjin was exhausted. He hadn’t slept since the previous night; he couldn’t sleep until he’d spoken to the others and discussed what they were going to do. He hoped they’d all listen and be willing to help, he knew most of them would be up for the task, especially after what he had to show them.

Of course, he was expecting some resistance to his plans, not that he really had a plan yet. Said resistance was called Jisung. He knew that Jeongin and Jisung had had a short-lived relationship, though the elder of the two rarely spoke of it unless it was to call Jeongin an asshole, a bastard or whatever colourful mix-up of expletives flowed through his brain. Hyunjin didn’t know any details, other than Jisung’s insistence that Jeongin was a filthy cheater.

While he acknowledged that Jeongin had changed, in many ways for the worse, he didn’t think that was a likely story. When they had been together as teenagers, they’d had a long conversation turned debate, over whether cheating was forgivable. Hyunjin had been insistent that wandering eyes were unforgivable regardless of situation, regardless of whether it was just looking for another or actually committing to the act.

Jeongin had fought back against the stance, questioning if certain circumstances would lead to a possibility for forgiveness. He had explained that sure, cheating was wrong, but what if there were extenuating circumstances that lead them to believe that was their only choice? If someone was in a deeply toxic or abusive relationship, if they were in an arranged, loveless marriage, could their adulterous acts be forgiven?

The elder had disagreed, he wasn’t willing to see the other side at the time. Couldn’t see how anything could excuse it, regardless of anything, he believed that love was forever. It was to be cherished and tarnishing it with adultery was simply inexcusable.

As he looked back on that argument, he realised it wasn’t really an argument. Nor was there really a difference in opinion. He just couldn’t understand the question being asked.

All Jeongin had done was try to find a positive reason, the younger had always had hope in others. Always wanted to see the best in people regardless of their actions. Maybe it was the catholic upbringing beating the same old ‘everything happens for a reason’ message into him, but the young man had always tried to find a meaning. An answer to his why. Always seemed to want to believe everyone had a good reason for committing bad actions, no matter how heinous that action was.

So yes, Hyunjin knew Jeongin had changed. But did that strong moral compass of his really fade? Had his compass broken beyond repair? He wouldn’t believe it, not until he heard the words from Jeongin’s own mouth.

He was still tired, but the determination to find the cause of Jeongin’s change was still there. A burning desire to help, to prove that any poor choices Jeongin had made were for a reason.
There had to be a reason.

It was only ten in the morning now, but Chan had organised for all of the members of their little rag-tag group to meet at his house so they could discuss what Hyunjin had seen. He hadn’t gone into detail, was too scared to if he was honest, all he had said was that it involved Jeongin and needed to be talked over as soon as they could.

Luckily, Chan’s apartment was only a ten-minute walk from his own, so he decided to choose the walk, hoping once more that the extra time would give him the ability to think over what he was going to say. Saying straight out that he thought Jeongin was being abused by his staff seemed a little tactless, though he didn’t doubt it was true.

Sure, he had witnessed it only once, but with Jeongin’s demeanour and constant array of bruises, he knew it was a logical leap to make. He wasn’t sure how bad this abuse had gotten, whether it was just his manager or if there were more people involved. And while Jeongin had chosen to remain silent on all of these matters, it was clear that he needed help, needed them to support and back him up. So, the decision was made, he had to share this with the others, rally their forces and hopefully get to the bottom of this.

The others would be in agreement, minus maybe the pest known as Han Jisung. Though he supposed with enough bullying the man, he’d probably join in on the effort. Jisung had been hurt by the events of that relationship, but he knew deep down there was still an air of worry for their youngest friend. He could mock and scream his hatred as much as he wanted, it was still there.

Hyunjin wandered if something similar was there from Jeongin. If the young man still had some sort of love for him, be it romantic or not, he didn’t care. He just wanted the chance to reconcile, the chance to explain himself, beg for forgiveness, even if he was never granted it.

Running straight into a streetlight was not in the plan for his walk, however it knocked him out of his thoughts enough to realise he had walked straight past Chan’s apartment complex. By a whole block.

An idiotic moment on his behalf.

He had no time to linger too long on the thoughts of his own idiocy though, immediately turning tail to get to Chan’s apartment. This was important, he had to do whatever it took to help. No matter what the others said, even if in the end it was only him, he was going to do it. Though he had faith in his friends, he knew they were all good people, they’d back his every step should he ask, there was still a residual anxiety.

Walking up to Chan’s apartment, he forced any leftover worries to leave his body, hitting the buzzer to notify Chan that he was there. After a few seconds, the door was opened for him. Odd, he had thought Chan would speak to him first, though he supposed the man was waiting for him to show up. Heading up the elevator, he got off on the third floor, walking down the hallway to room 325, it only took a few knocks before the door was opened by Felix.

“Hey Jinnie, everyone’s already here.” Felix spoke softly, a tight smile on his face. The younger looked somewhat worried, rightfully so.

While Hyunjin hadn’t fully explained, he knew just the topic of Jeongin tended to lead to worried thoughts for all of them. Felix especially was prone to that, while the young man was mature, he had almost an air of innocence about him, always wearing his heart on his sleeve.

“Sorry, got lost in my head on the way here.” Hyunjin admitted, trying to lighten the mood even a little.

Felix just nodded, moving out of the way for the elder to make his way into the apartment. Chan’s apartment had always been a safe place for each of them. It wasn’t extravagant by any means, a few photos hanging on the walls, some colourful led lights offsetting the otherwise monochromatic colour scheme the man kept. It was comfortable, it felt like home.

The loungeroom was much the same, soft grey lounges with black and white cushions, some darker grey throws accompanying. Though the main light of the room wasn’t on, there were pink and blue lights bathing the room, leading to a beautiful wash of colour.

All of his friends were already there, cuddled up with each other across the lounges and floor, quiet speaking amongst themselves. It was nice to see, rarely did they have the chance to come together all at once, and though this time it wasn’t for a good reason, it still filled his heart with joy.

These people were his home, and he desperately wanted to aid the return of their final little puzzle piece.

“Hey Jinnie.” It was Seungmin this time, alerting everyone in the room to his presence.

Seungmin was one of the members he hadn’t been able to spend a lot of time with due to their differing schedules, though he cherished their time together. The two of them had bonded over a love of photography and could spend hours' discussing it. The younger was incredibly diligent which Hyunjin admired, his dedication to his craft was commendable, it was obvious in his vocal improvement that he had spent a lot of time mastering how to get the most out of his already impressive voice.

But he was also humble about it. Nothing ever seemed to get to the man’s head, always seeming to want to improve further. Just another impressive quality about him. Though he supposed everyone in their group was like that. No matter how high their achievements, no matter how far they progressed, there was always a hunger for more. There was always room to climb higher, strive to the betterment of their skill.

“Hi guys, sorry we couldn’t all meet under better circumstances,” Hyunjin began, apologising immediately, “but this is really important. And I need your opinions and help if I’m being honest.”

The air seemed to go cold at that, a sense of unease washing through the room. This was a tricky subject to broach, many of them having different levels of involvement. It was as if the blanket of comfort had been ripped from them, the warm lighting seeming to change into cold tones.

“It’s about Jeongin, isn’t it?” Jisung piped up from his spot wedged between Minho and Chan. He didn’t seem angry, just unsettled.

“Yeah, and I know you told me to not get involved and I’m sor-“

“No. It’s okay, if anything maybe it’ll help me come to terms with everything more.” Jisung cut him off, his tone was calm, like he was trying to come a form of reconciliation with his pain.

“Okay,” Hyunjin nodded slightly, walking further into the room, “Okay. Well, the reason I wanted everyone here was to show you a video I took. Uh, I know I wasn’t supposed to see it but I did, when I was leaving after the practice we had, I saw Jeongin with his manager.”

He had trailed off slightly, unsure of what to say, how to call it. The others though just looked at him patiently, not pushing for him to speed up, allowing him to collect his thoughts before he spoke again.

“How about I just show you the video I took? I think it speaks for itself.” He said after a beat, grabbing his phone to pull up the video.

A chorus of ‘okay’ and ‘sure’ were heard from the others. Hyunjin begged his hands to stop shaking as he handed his phone over to Chan, all of the others huddling around their eldest to view the video. Hyunjin just stood there, waiting quietly as the video played, everyone was silent as it played, a mixture of uncomfortable, upset and horrified looks painting their faces.

As the video ended, everyone once more sat in silence, staring blankly at the phone which had since commenced playing the video. All of them were thinking, brains running a million miles an hour trying to come up with reasons, justifications and classifications for what they had just watched.

“That.” Chan broke the silence, taking a moment to consider his words before finishing the thought, “I know we don’t know the exact circumstances, but I think that’s clear evidence he’s being abused by his management.”

There was some nodding from Changbin and Seungmin, still choosing to keep their silence though. Felix and Jisung on the other hand looked like they were on the verge of tears, it was expected of the younger of the two, however Jisung not as much. Hyunjin suspected he was conflicted on how to feel, processing whether his anger towards the youngest was always justified.

Minho and Chan shared a look that he could only assume was an affirmation that they wanted to help. That they were going to help, no matter what it took.

“Where do we go from here though?” Changbin began, “Yes we have this one video as evidence something isn’t right, but I don’t think this is going to be enough to start something.”

“No, it isn’t. And we’re all well aware how it goes when you try to push Jeongin for information.” Minho followed up, concern clear in his expression.

“While that’s true, don’t you think that now we have some background information, we might be able to approach him in a better way?” Chan spoke again, gears turning in his brain as he tried to think up a plan of action.

“That could work, but we need to think of who should start the conversation, Hyunjin and I are definitely not options, I think that’d just backfire.” Jisung spoke now, eyebrows furrowed together.

“Yeah, as much as I’d love to be the one, I don’t think he’ll hear me out or open up.” Hyunjin agreed.

“What if it was me?” Minho offered, sharing looks with everyone, “He’s normally pretty okay with me, it might just be because I’m never the one to push, but I think it’s worth a shot.”

All seven of them thought on it for a moment. Logically, Minho was probably the safest option they had. He was the only one that Jeongin seemed at ease with, and from what they had heard, it seemed Jeongin let his guard down with him. Of course, everyone wished they could be the one to break through, be the one to get the younger to open up. Really, they wished he were never in this situation at all, but he was, all they could do was try and help. Be the warm and welcoming arms he needed.

“I think that’s probably the best to start with,” Chan continued the conversation, “We don’t know how deep this goes yet, nor do we know how long this has been happening. The only thing we can do is try and ask, calmly.”

“I won’t push too hard if he doesn’t want to talk, but I’ll do my best to get him to open up,” Minho agreed, thinking for a moment before following up, “I’ll just try and be understanding, tell him that it was me who saw something and let him know we’re here to help if he can just let us in.”

“Won’t lying to him be a bad idea?” Hyunjin asked, not wanting to push his trust.

“How do you think he’ll react to knowing it was you that saw him in a weak moment? Do you really think that will go down well?” Minho retorted. He wasn’t being mean, it was true. Hyunjin didn’t know how Jeongin would react, but he didn’t want to push his luck.

“Okay, we’ll say it was you.” Hyunjin finally agreed, nodding slightly.

“So, we’ve got a base plan of action, for now we can’t do much until we get more information. If anyone sees Jeongin with Kangho, maybe just keep an eye on them.” Chan concluded, looking around the room.

Everyone seemed to be in agreeance. Even Jisung, shitty experience with Jeongin he may have had, he didn’t want him to suffer. All of them had been hurt by Jeongin in one way or another, but if they could get to the bottom of why, if they could help him heal, then they’d do it.

..

Someone was calling his name. Jeongin didn’t think he could open his eyes though, it felt as though his eyelids were glued shut, or his eyelashes were made of lead. Someone’s hand was on his shoulder, gently trying to stir him from whatever rest he was having. It was warm, almost comforting.

“Jeongin? Can you open your eyes for me?” They spoke, he knew them. He couldn’t place who the voice belonged to though. It was familiar, like a distant memory.

With a strain, eyebrows knitting themselves together, his eyes opened slowly, though he couldn’t seem to register his surroundings. The room wasn’t bright, just a slow filtering of sunlight. The person who had spoken was directly in front of him, yet he couldn’t make out who it was yet, vision still blurred.

“What?” Was all he could managed before a cough broke off his speech. Shit, his throat was killing him.

“Are you okay?” They spoke again, clearly concerned. “Why were you sleeping in the practice room?”

The practice room? Why was he in the practice room?

What happened yesterday? Jeongin tried to think, place any memories from the previous day, grasp onto anything at all. He’d had dance practice, spent the morning with Minho and Hyunjin. Then Kangho had taken him to another appointment.

Oh.

That’s right, he’d been drugged. That would explain why he couldn’t remember, why everything was still so foggy. Sluggishly he bought his hands up to wipe the sleep from his eyes, hopefully it’d clear up his vision too.

As he opened his eyes again, he could finally see who was in front of him, despite the slight blur that lingered. It was Minho. Now that he thought about it, that made sense. Rarely was anyone else in the practice rooms outside of schedules. Though, thinking back on it, Jeongin wouldn’t be able to tell if anyone was scheduled to use this room anyway. As his vision cleared more, he took in the elders features.

The man was looking at him with concern, but there was no pity held in his expression. Simply seeming worried for him, there was a glimmer of endearment in his eyes, if Jeongin felt any better than he did he might laugh at him for it. Call him out for holding secret affection towards his friends, affection that was normally held behind a wall of indifference and snarky comments.

“What time is it hyung?” His voice was hoarse, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care.

“Almost one in the afternoon.” Minho responded calmly.

“Oh.” Was all Jeongin could muster, sitting up slowly, staring a hole through the floor.

“So, now you’re up, did you know why you were sleeping on the practice room lounge by any chance?” Minho tried, eyebrow quirked in question.

“I was-“ he cut himself off.

He couldn’t exactly tell Minho he had been drugged. Was it willing drugging since he drank it knowing fully well it was spiked? Or was it coercion? It wasn’t like he was left a choice in the matter, so probably the later. Either way, he couldn’t exactly say that to Minho. Instead of answering he simply dug his palms into his eyes and groaned, resting his elbows on his knees to heighten the pressure.

“Not sure? That’s okay, how about you come back to my place and see my cats? You haven’t seen them in a while,” Minho offered, thinking before deciding to sweeten the deal, “I’ll get us ice-cream too.”

“What about-.”

“Sungie’s in the studio, he said he’s probably going to sleep there since he’s on a time crunch.”

Minho cut him off, knowing exactly what Jeongin’s argument was going to be.

For all he was worth, Jeongin couldn’t understand why Minho was so kind to him. He was currently dating his ex, the ex that was convinced Jeongin had cheated on him. And yet, Minho had never let that come between them, had never used it as a reason to dislike him. Standing there, Minho just waited patiently for an answer, as he always did.

“Okay hyung, I’ll come with you.” It was probably what he needed after last night. While he had no recollection of what had happened after he’d downed the drink, the deep-set ache in his body allowed him to know whatever it was, hadn’t been good.

“I might need to borrow your shower though.” Jeongin added after moment. He didn’t want to think about what he probably smelt like.

“That’s fine, I want to talk to you too, you aren’t in trouble though so don’t worry.” Minho smiled down at him, offering a hand to help him up.

As Jeongin took the elders’ hand, he felt accepting this invitation was a beacon for change. Something about the other man’s demeanour spoke a thousand words. Something had happened, something he wasn’t aware of.

..

They decided to walk to Minho’s apartment, allowing for time to stop at a convenience store for the promised ice cream. Though he was still groggy, he appreciated the fresh air filling his lungs. It was a slighter fresher afternoon but the cold was welcomed, seeming to help the fire in his veins die down.

Jeongin waited outside as Minho picked out ice cream for the both of them, staring absentmindedly at the cars going past. Although there was still a bleariness in the back of his head, he felt more alive again.

He was suddenly reminded of the fact the elder of them had said he wanted to talk, and though he had specified no trouble, Jeongin doubted any conversation with himself did not involve trouble. He seemed to have a knack for just that, finding or bringing the trouble himself. Initially it had seemed to be some kind of ill fate that led him to it, yet slowly over the years as the abuse and threats towards friends got to him, he began initiating it.

Pushing others out bought a semblance of safety. If the company thought that he had no friends, then they couldn’t hold these people against him, it kept the people dearest to his heart safe. How wrong that line of thought had been though, useless in the face of such evil.

Regardless of how far they were pushed, they still clung to him like grass collected on jeans after a fall, and there company seemed to know that no matter how he acted, he still cared for each of these people deeply.

So it had been a useless endeavour, yet he couldn’t help himself at this point.

It had become second nature, muscle memory to react poorly, to spit vitriol towards those only trying to help. Maybe he should give it up, admit it had been all a ruse. Could they ever forgive him?

He felt his heart flutter as it tried to steady the panic slowly creeping in.

He had acted truly heartless towards the kindness afforded to him. He hadn’t deserved it, he had openly spat in the face of love and companionship. A person can only be given so much grace before patience runs out, before the elastic is drawn too tight and snaps. Had he missed the window? Were they only showing pleasantries for the sake of common courtesy in the workplace, removing him from their hearts?

Perhaps they had, he had been holding onto this act for far too long.

A bead of sweat rolls down his back and he wonders if he’s been left feverish from the drugs or if it’s the panic overtaking him.

His tongue is numb, there’s a subtle shake allover and his vision is narrowing in.

There is no help.

There is only acceptance.

Acceptance of the situation and his place in this world.

Acceptance that he may as well overdose, there’s no one left to miss him.

The fluttering in his chest is painful, overwhelming.

It is as though a cavity has opened where his heart should be. No, not cavity, a black hole that wants to swallow him whole.

It hurts.

He wonders if he’s overworked his heart enough with drugs and alcohol to warrant a heart attack.

Maybe he’d die right here on the street.

Would any passerby see him and care?

Would Minho?

Would he be remembered for what little good he did in the world?

He doesn’t think the world will look on him kindly post-mortem. It’s as much as he deserves if he is to be remembered at all.

“Jeongin.”

All it once he zeroes back in, turning wide eyed to this man he wishes desperately he could call a friend.

“You ready to go back to mine?” He asks softly, as though entirely unaware of the black hole.

Jeongin just nods blankly, the moisture on his brow is overstimulating and he hurries to wipe it.

Minho nods back, seeming unsure as he begins walking, back with the promised treats in hand. “You’re looking paler than before, I was hoping some fresh air would help but I suppose not,” he muses, “You can have a shower once we’re at mine and then we can chat.”

Once again all he can do is nod. He had initially felt some semblance of hope, yet it seems to have been overtaken by the doom encased in his bones.

..

He showers with little fuss, the deep-set ache in his chest has yet to lighten but at least he’s less concerned that he may smell.

Minho gave him some spare clothes that fit relatively well, some sweats and on old t-shirt with a cat graphic on it. It looks silly. He feels silly wearing it. He hopes finding the humour in it will ease the anxiety.

It doesn’t.

As he makes his way down the stairs, he notices on of the cats, Soonie, he thinks, glance around anxiously before setting their eyes on him. It’s not quite fear that he sees in those green eyes but something akin to it. Perhaps he looks like death walking, it sure feels that way. Soonie eyes him one more time before scurrying off, perhaps to hide from the dead man walking, he isn’t sure.

By the time he meets Minho in the lounge, the other man is digging into some sort of matcha ice cream while scrolling what looks to be instagram. Upon noticing Jeongin he inclines his head and makes some form of gesture requesting that he joins. His mouth seems to be full and wordlessly Jeongin makes his way to sit on the lounge.

Minho’s apartment is tidy and warm. The off-white walls reflect what remaining sunlight there is leaving a cozy atmosphere. The lounge is a lighter beige that though it may seem boring brings a further homely feel into the room. There’s at least three cat towers scattered around the apartment, as he glances at one in the corner there’s a set of brown ears poking up from the cradle, alert.

The older man had always carried a sort of homeliness about him, the room they were sat in seemingly reflected that quite well. If not for the guitar perched in the opposite corner he could almost forget this is also Jisung’s home.

Still, he let himself imagine that this room reflected the person before him the most. It was perhaps slightly mild on a surface level, a room that when seen evokes an understanding that it is a lounger. Yet just sitting there, the warmth was clear. It was not overwhelming in nature, but assuredly there, steadily enveloping him.

It definitely felt like Minho.

“Your ice cream is melting while you’re day dreaming.” The other said, and there it is again. Mild and unassuming on the surface, yet conveying the care underneath.

“Sorry,” Jeongin muttered, reaching for his own matcha tub, “I guess I’ve been doing that a lot lately.”
“Dissappearing into your own head?” Minho asks.

“Sure, if that’s what you’d call it.” He doesn’t disagree.

Minho hums softly around another mouthful of ice cream, there’s a light green tint on the corner of his lips.

He takes a spoonful of his own ice cream into his mouth. It’s sweet, but not overpoweringly. The bitterness of the green tea is allowed to shine and it isn’t shied away from. It’s almost heady in nature as he feels it melt against his tongue, pleasant overall.

The other man seems lost in his own head now, perhaps thinking of what to say next, though he may just be finishing the mouthful he had taken moments ago. His eyes seem slightly hazed as he absently moves the spoon around the tub. It’s quiet for a moment more before Minho hums and turns to look at him.

“Well, you remember before we left that I said I wanted to talk to you about something, right?” He asks so easily.

“I remember, yes. What is it?”

Minho sighs before continuing, “Before I start I just want to say that you know I’ve never been one to push you on anything. I let you be if you don’t want to answer my questions and I accept that if you don’t want to talk something I let it go.”

Jeongin places his ice cream back on the coffee table and nods, he doesn’t like where this is going.
“This isn’t a situation where I want to push you either. You can leave if you don’t want to answer and I’ll respect that, I promise,” The sincerity in his eyes is overwhelming, “However I recently saw something that I really want you to be honest about.”

He saw something.

He saw something?

What? What could he possibly have seen?

5 years of constant abuse from the time he was 17 rush through his mind like a train coming off the rails. Did the company show him something? The photos of him as a minor being sexually exploited?
Did they take new photos that he wasn’t aware of, possibly yesterday when he was completely out of his mind and laking any lucidity?

The panic is back and so is the black hole in his chest. He wishes it would swallow him whole.

There’s another look it Minho’s eyes as is asking, or pleading, for some kind of response. He isn’t sure he can muster one right now.

“I’m just going to tell you what I saw, and you tell me if you can about it, okay?” His tone is definitely pleading now.

Jeongin simply nods once more, not for the first time finding himself wordless today.

“After practice yesterday, I left not long after you. I took the stairs, fitness and all y’know? And when I got to the second floor I heard yelling. I’m generally not that nosy but I was concerned so I peeked around the corner.”

There’s a pause as though he’s contemplating how to continue, Jeongin almost wishes he wouldn’t. The second floor has only ever meant one thing for him.

“I saw you and your manager.” He pauses again, “It looked like he slapped you, before choking you and dragging you into a room. I’m sorry, I didn’t know what to do in the moment, I ran away when I should have intervened.”

It’s almost like there’s an audible snap in the room as he feels his heart stop and the floodgates in his eyes open.

Nothing and then suddenly there’s an overbearing grief trying to cover him like an old quilt. It takes seconds for him to crumple into himself and start sobbing, he can’t even look at the elder man’s face. He’s scared of what he’ll see.

The sobs wrack his body and his hands cling to the lounge cushion his face is now buried in. The shakes return and it’s like he’s being drowned in his own tears. Breaths and sobs are being pulled from him without control, he can’t remember if he’s ever cried like this in his life outside of Hyunjin. Has he never let himself truly feel how much it has affected him all these years? Simply buried it in drugs and alcohol, hoping it killed him?

It’s too much and he knows he needs to look up, to try and answer or to run away as fast as he can, but he’s paralysed by his emotions. They want to escape from his body and aren’t giving him the chance to move.

Silently, arms embrace and manoeuvre him so that his head in placed in a lap. Jeongin wraps his own arms around the waist before him as the tears continue to pour, clinging to any sort of comfort he can find. There’s some quiet shushing and he thinks he can hear someone say okay as a hand softly pets his back.

It’s too much for him to handle.

He needs to let it out even if it kills him.

“Hyung, I can’t do this anymore.” Is all he can say.