A young man woke up, startled.

The dark room concealed the sweat that beaded on his forehead. His back was also drenched with his own sweat, but that was the least of his concerns. He took deep breaths as he tried to catch his own wind; one hand held his chest.

His heart pounded wildly.

Not again, he thought.

“Hyung?”

Another voice broke the silence of the room. The boy panicked before realizing the voice belonged to one of their own. He looked around and saw the younger one creeping up behind him.

“Oh my god,” he remarked, “You almost gave me a heart attack, JK.”

The solitary lamp outside of their window reflected the silhouette of the dongsaeng called JK. The other boy saw the younger one’s face, illuminated by the light. His round eyes wondered what bothered his hyung in the middle of the night.

“I’m sorry, V hyung,” apologized JK, “I heard you groaning. I thought the wound opened up again or something.”

The mention of his recent wound reminded V of the sting. He cringed as his hand touched on the bandaged gash on his back. The sweat didn’t help one bit.

“Ah, why’d you have to remind me?”

“I’m sorry,” said the dongsaeng again, “I’m so sorry.”

V looked at JK, sensing the younger one’s fear. Outside, it would’ve been considered as an overrated type of fear. But where they were, the dongsaeng had every right to carefully watch his words. If it were someone else than V, JK would’ve probably been hit.

No wonder they placed the boy under his care.

“Do you want water?” asked JK.

“No, I’ll be fine.”

“Dream?”

“No.”

“Nightmare?”

V sighed. “God JK, that’s also a dream — just a different word,” he remarked, “Now if I were you, I’d go back to sleep. We’re up and early tomorrow. You don’t want Suga beating you up for being so tardy, right?”

The younger one shivered in fear; he was just 19, but V sensed he had seen plenty of horrors already. JK shook his head.

“Then go back to sleep.”

“I will,” answered JK. He checked up on V for one last time before shuffling silently back to his worn-out mattress. The thin mattress was not enough to comfort neither JK nor V from the cold floor of their room. V already had years of experience; the kid, on the other hand, had only been in for months. The former sincerely hoped the dongsaeng would get some good sleep.

As much as he’d want to be a comfort, this place allowed for no emotions.

Running a hand through his mess of a hair, V sighed as he glanced outside the small window. The room he shared with JK was too small for his liking, but he had no right to speak against it. Otherwise, the higher guys would never let him hear the end of it.

He laid down on his poor excuse of a bed and stared at the ceiling.

It’s the nth time already, he thought.

V was no stranger to these dreams. The beginning of it all happened during the worst time of his life: his mother just died, leaving him all alone to fend for himself. He was just thirteen and in the streets. When none of his relatives would take him in, he ended up behind a junkyard, shivering from the rain.

The first dream involved a young man with blonde hair as bright as the sun. He wore Renaissance-like clothes, his air screamed of royalty. He was hiding from some sort of authority, running towards an unknown stranger. By the end of it, the stranger turned out to be a woman with stunning silver hair.

He couldn’t see her face; he woke up almost immediately.

That was also when The Brotherhood found him and took him in.

Since then, V has been seeing images in his dreams.

He his side, wincing when he realized his wound touched the cement. The gash came from one of their fights today; he was told to take the front line. One member from the opposing gang got him with a screw driver; he was fortunate he got away with just a gash.

Still, it hurt.

V ended up staring up at the ceiling again. The 21-year old closed his eyes, hoping sleep would follow him soon.

But that would mean dreams again.

If he were honest enough, he’d rather have the dreams because he knew…they meant something.

“You look like you didn’t sleep well.”

“What’s new?”

“No need to be a jerk , V.”

His fellow Brother, RM, glared at him while shoving pieces of beans in his mouth. V sighed as he ripped the bread one piece from another, chewing slowly the one in his mouth. Opposite them, JK glanced cautiously from one hyung to another.

“I’m not being a jerk,” replied V.

“Just annoyed.”

“That’s enough RM hyung.”

RM took a sip from his cup of coffee (doused with liquor, of course). “I don’t know why you even call me hyung when you have the audacity to talk to me like that,” he remarked, “Remember, Suga favours me more than he favours you.”

V smirked.

“Good for you, then.”

“Hey, set a good example to the dongsaeng here.”

JK threw in a cautious smile before bowing again to eat his piece of bread. V stared at the boy’s crop of brown locks, wondering what his initials meant. Here in the Brotherhood, they