Jung Daehyun sat in a room that smelled very sterile, medical, listening to the hums and beeps and whirs of machinery. Closing his eyes, he took a sip of his coffee, ignoring the pain in his stomach (as well as the pain in his heart). Doing his best to feign happiness, he smiled over the rim of his cup, knowing the woman in front of him would see through his attempts anyway.

“Daehyun, sweetheart.” The woman’s kind voice was comforting. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong, ma-am. I’m okay.” Giving another fake grin, he took another sip of his coffee.

“Come now, child. I have known you your whole life. I know better.” Reaching out, the older woman patted his hand gently. “You’re looking much too thin. There are bags under your eyes and a sorrow on your face. It’s okay to admit your pain.”

“I...” Sighing, Daehyun was resigned to telling the truth to the best of his ability. “I was called fat again. And someone seemed to imply that my mother left because of me. Look. It’s really not important. How are you feeling? Is your medication helping at all.”

“Don’t you try to avoid this, Jung Daehyun.” Pushing a muffin into his hands, the woman gave him a determined look. “Now eat and tell me who said such cruel things. Was it your father again?”

“No, ma’am. The ‘who’ is not important.” Shaking his head, Daehyun picked at the muffin, starving but disinterested. “I’ll be okay. I’d rather focus on you.”

“You listen here, Daehyun. You are not fat. You are perfect.” Clearly worried for his well-being, the woman held her arms out to him and Daehyun quietly obliged, climbing into the bed to rest in her arms. “Your mother left because she is a horrible woman who never deserved you as her son to begin with.”

“But... But maybe he was right...” Leaning gently against the woman, Daehyun fought back the urge to cry. “He does know me better than anyone. Or at least he used to.”

“Do you want to talk about him?” Rubbing his shoulder, the woman rocked him gently. “Whoever he is, Daehyun, he clearly doesn’t know you at all.”

“Once upon a time.” Daehyun laughed weakly, feeling tears slip down his cheeks.

“You need to go get some rest, okay?” Patting his cheek, the woman gave him a look of pity. “You poor child, you must be exhausted.

“I am.” He admitted, though, truthfully it was probably more emotional than physical exhaustion.

“Go now. Sleep and when you wake, please, for me, eat.” Begging the woman kissed Daehyun’s forehead. “I worry so much about you.”

“For you.” Agreeing, Daehyun gave her a hug, kissing her cheek gently. “Do you want me to come back later today?”

“No, Daehyun.” Wiping the tears from his cheeks, she shook her head. “I have long appointments to attend to. Best to plan on breakfast tomorrow.”

“Always. You are the best thing in my life.” Smiling sadly, Daehyun bowed. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“I love you, Jung Daehyun.” Grinning, the woman held his muffin out to him.

“I love you, too.” Bowing again, Daehyun took the muffin and left. His talk with the women left him feeling slightly better about the events. Wishing he could have told her who had said those things, to cry about how Yongguk had broken him for a long time, he knew he couldn’t. As much as the other man hurt him, he would never do anything to compromise the relationship between Yongguk and his mother.

Staggering up the many flights of stair to his flat at the top of the mansion, Daehyun’s very existence was sluggish and tired. Putting his muffin away in a container in the kitchen, he passed by Yongguk’s room, taking a moment to look at the door, wondering what he had done wrong. With a heavy breath, he returned to his room and curled up beside Jongup, too tired to even speak. As the other man’s arm’s wrapped around him, he was already falling asleep.

Bang Yongguk awoke and yawned, stretching in the massive bed. Despite his hatred for the rich and their spoiled mannerisms, he had to admit that they knew how to get the best nights of sleep. For a moment, he was so comfortable, he almost didn’t want to leave his room. Soon, though, the need to relieve himself overpowered the urge to to remain under the blankets and he slipped into the harsh realities of his new life.

After using the rest room, he shuffled, half asleep and hungry, to the kitchen. A muffin sat in a clear container on the counter and for a moment he wanted nothing more than to devour it. Daehyun’s pleasure in his enjoying the man’s cooking stopped him though and he began to go through the refrigerator for anything he could make himself. Finally, stumbling upon eggs, cheese, and a few other ingredients, he decided to try his luck at making some kind of breakfast sandwich.

Glancing back at the muffin, he sighed, a part of him wondered if Daehyun had eaten yet, the rest of him didn’t care if he starved to death at all. Groaning, he silently cursed himself, hating the portion of his heart that still held the prissy brat near and dear. Much to his distaste, it seemed the love he had felt for Daehyun for most of their childhood and preteen years was a habit he just seemed to have a hard time quitting.

Silently, he cooked his breakfast and ate, scrolling through his phone as he did so. Sighing, he texted Himchan to see if he had returned home safely, something he probably should have done that morning before sleep. Already, it seemed, being in this lair where human kindness is forgotten and only selfishness and greed could breed, was turning him into a far lesser man than he had worked so hard on being.

“Hey Chan. How’d you sleep?” After sending the text, he finished his meal and washed the dishes, waiting for a reply. Maybe he was being clingy but he needed Himchan just to make it through this hell on earth he seemed to be dragged down into.

“Oh hey. Look who made it through the night. Haven’t murdered the kid yet, have you?” Himchan’s reply made him roll his eyes.

“Not yet but no promises. Hell, he may be doing it himself so I guess I won’t have to put forth the effort.” Sending his message back, he winced lightly at how heartless his words had sounded. It wasn’t that he wanted Daehyun to die, he just wished he hadn’t existed to begin with.

On his way back to his room to ready himself for the day, he stopped short, noticing the aforementioned man sleeping soundly, still in his day clothes. Half , Daehyun’s no strings attached lover held him close. Growling quietly, he turned away, seeing the other man as a lazy, spoiled lost cause, Yongguk wondered why he had wasted so many years by his side. Smiling bitterly, the answer was pretty quick to his mind. Daehyun was beautiful, he always had been, and his laughter always made his stomach feel like it was full of butterflies. Unfortunately for Yongguk, slowly, year by year, they grew apart, Yongguk believing more and more in social justice, Daehyun believing that anything can be solved with the right price tag, and resentment had started to creep into his heart. Love turning dark, decaying into the hostility and hatred he now felt.

“What? Yongguk, that isn’t funny. If you think there’s something that wrong with him, you need to help him. You’re not the kind of person to just let a man die, no matter your feelings for them.” Painfully honest, Himchan’s words irritated him but he knew his friend was right. Whenever Daehyun finally woke up and crawled out from under the man in his bed, Yongguk would swallow his pride and apologize for his harsh words.

“Go back to bed, Mr. Goody Two Shoes.” Huffing in annoyance, Yongguk slammed his bedroom door behind him, deciding it was best to get out of his pajamas and check on his mother. Daehyun could wait, he was in no rush to fling false compliments at the little anyway. His mother, on the other hand, he had missed her dearly and time by her side was now more precious than ever before.