Sungjong sits counting the seconds, the hours, the days; time whirrs past, leaving him in its wake. Days turn into nights, slowly weakening fingers tapping out the symphony of despair against the cool glass of the window above his bed. Thunder crashes and lightning blankets the sky, the staccato of the rain against the glass filling up measures of rest as the boy withers away. The hurricane of thoughts brushes the shores of his mind and explodes, haunting voices whispering of pain and heartbreak.  
 

The weather outside takes amusement in the boy whose mind no longer separates fiction from reality; the sun rises on another beautiful day.
 

~~~~~~~~~~~~
 

“Do you think he’s okay?”
 

The words are tossed across the table, each member of the group more worried than the last. Sparks of ideas and reasons flow from concerned lips, but none come close to answering why the youngest has barely acknowledged them for the past two weeks, eyes wide and transfixed on the clouds slowly passing over the dorm. Unanimous whispers elect Myungsoo to take on the task of prodding the younger for an explanation; if not for his previous failed attempts, Hoya would have been chosen, but Myungsoo secretly relishes his candidacy. Being the second maknae has its benefits, one of which is naturally being close with the younger – a position he has recently taken advantage of after discovering his budding feelings for him.
 

The members pile out of the dorm yelling of plans for their last day of vacation and Myungsoo joins the crowd only to go to the local variety store for the younger’s favourite candy. The boy finally breaks his concentration as the door slams, glancing back at the empty and soundless dorm with bloodshot eyes; he is alone. Stabs of pain burst through his body as he imagines thick barbed wire encircling him, spikes scraping and scarring – an illusory equivalent to the pain in his heart. 
 

His fingers twitch, memories of his phone vibrating with that call. Life seems to have cruelly chosen him to remain alone:  thrown away by his biological parents at a young age, bullied and teased at school, and just recently having his adoptive family torn away from him in a fatal car crash. The thin line between life and death, between family and so-called ‘friends’ beckons him, taunts him with the promise of warmth and happiness; with love. Nails dig into his wrists, deep enough to leave red crescents, but not yet strong enough to break the skin.
 

A hand appears, shoving a yellow plastic bag into his line of vision and blocking out the white clouds that he has been so desperately searching for the faces of his adoptive family. Still trapped beneath the illusory net of barbed wire, he makes no move to grab the bag, instead rolling his eyes to the side in slight interest, wondering who of the members has returned for him.
 

The floorboards creak as the person sits down heavily beside him, bag crinkling as it now presses up against his cheek. “You don’t always have to be the strong maknae that accepts our teasing without question. You don’t have to keep everything to yourself: you’re allowed to be sad, to be mad, and to even want to throw more than a few punches at Sunggyu-hyung. We won’t think anything less of you if you simply come to us and tell us to stop.” The statement hangs in the air and the bag is pulled away, loud crunching of what Sungjong presumes to be the yellow plastic bag being opened slowly overpowering the fictional blustering winds in his ears.
 

His vision dips to the side as Myungsoo rests himself on his shoulder, paying no heed to the barbed wire that seems so real and constricting to the younger. “Infinite will always be here for you: the dorm is our home away from home and the group our family away from family. You can tell us what’s wrong when you’re ready.”
 

Lightning flashes across the sky once before the dark clouds roll away, the near acid rain slowing to a trickle. A clear thought or two filters through the calm of his psychological storm as shaking hands press an individually wrapped candy into his palm. Something wraps around his shoulders and lightly hugs the two boys closer.
 

Myungsoo tries another plan of simply ignoring the depressive aura around the younger and conversing as if everything is fine. To his delight and near relief, Sungjong responds softly – the first thing he’s said in nearly two weeks.


Sungjong shivers as a piece of the wire snaps off, leaving deep wounds that begin to heal as the warmth from Myungsoo floods through him. Maybe I’m not completely alone, he thinks.  

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sungjong is the last member to film for their new mv: The Chaser, other members long gone from the studio; alone, he is always alone. And yet, it’s not as bothersome as before, he thinks. Caring members have slowly began to pull him from his inner world of natural disasters – the thunder fading to the occasional dull crash, acid rain now a light shower and hurricane winds dying down to sporadic gusts. Pieces of wire have broken off and littered the ground with each act of acceptance and promise to always be there for him.

Six pieces lay scattered for each member, and yet it is not enough to truly save him from his pain. The chaos in his mind has been replaced with clouds of confusion, mind and heart split between mourning and accepting the offerings of comfort. Words allow him to hope, but only actions can heal his broken heart and cut through the remaining rope of barbed wire that has coiled itself around his chest.
 

“Another 10 minutes.” A phrase that has been repeated for the past two hours is repeated once again, the clock striking one in the morning. He is exhausted, but he wants to do the best he can to finish the mv off well, part of his mind secretly wishing that this act will bring about more appreciation of his presence from the members.
 

He trips on a camera cord when he rushes back from the break area, palms scraping roughly against the cement floor as he falls. No one rushes over to see if he’s okay, instead he is yelled at by the director to hurry up. Hands red and raw, he can barely hold onto the chain for the key, but he does it anyway – for the sake of his hidden desires of acceptance and appreciation. The lone piece of imaginary wire left entangling his chest jerks, sharp metal slicing through the first few layers of skin. His heart lurches with sadness, the realisation that even on the set of their music video, no one seems to notice or care about him permeating his mind.  
 

Phantom pain washes over him like the tide, blood rushing to fictitious closed wounds that ache as they swell; scrapes and bruises fade with time, but scars remain forever.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He dances alone in the middle of the room, exasperated eyes watching as he makes a mistake, and another, and another after that.
 

“Just…stop!” The members all think it, but only Hoya is brave enough to say it. Sungjong doesn’t stop, fully decided on pushing forward and ignoring the pain his hyung’s yelling brings, ignoring the wire that has roughly ground through his ribs to pierce into his heart. His heart struggles and beats wildly, fighting against the overwhelming rush of emotions to try and shake the iron spike loose. There are at least six people in the world who care enough to promise him hope, to love him, and he fights for it – even if it means destroying himself in the process.
 

Hands grasp his, effectively preventing him from moving.  The last link of barbed wire quivers, vibrates as it waits for a response from the elder, sharp-tipped metal waiting to finish its job – to plunge itself deeper into the heart of the young boy.

“I’ve had enough Sungjong!” No honourifics follow his name – clearly he isn’t important. “You’ve been moping around the dorm for weeks now, even ignoring us when we try to talk to you! I’ve tried to be understanding; I mean, I know it’s a common thing for teenagers to go through some phase of this depressed crap, but I just can’t deal with you anymore! ”
 

After being comforted by each of the members individually, he expects more from them, but protests are never raised. Even Myungsoo, the hyung that was the first to truly make him believe that he may not be alone remains silent, mutedly staring at the two of them as if he’s some broken-down machine. Sungjong frowns, finding that Myungsoo’s rejection of him affects him more than most of the other members.
 

“Hey Hoya, I think you should calm down okay? Why don’t we take a five minute break hyung?” Dongwoo sees what Hoya can’t – Sungjong’s darkening eyes as his favourite hyung confronts him – and it hurts. He tries to get Sunggyu in on his plan: just to get the other rapper away from the maknae for a while. Sunggyu nods and moves to the two in the middle, but Hoya roughly shoves him away.
 

“Don’t interrupt me when you know you’re thinking it as well! Just today we could barely run practice with him messing up so many times. Whatever’s making him this sad is bringing us down! The media is starting to give us a bad rep just because our stupid little maknae won’t up whatever the hell he’s depressed about, and even the fans are starting to comment on it. Come on I mean, how are we supposed to be the 99% synchronization group when one of our members keeps ing up so badly?” Woohyun tries his luck to get between the two, but Hoya uses his size to his advantage and tugs the maknae away.
 

“It’s now or never! He needs to tell us what his problem is NOW so we can fix it and get back to preparing for our album!” Hoya turns back toward Sungjong, a bright fire of rage lit in his eyes as he begins to shake the boy in front of him.
 

“Look, you’ve got all kinds of stuff that kids your age only dream about – I don’t understand what’s gone so wrong in your life that you’d be this depressed? You have a family back in Gwangju that loves you and a group of members here that love you as well…but we’ve just run out of patience with this mopey attitude. Either it up or leave the group until you’re ready to come back!” Hoya shoves Sungjong away, the light shove to his chest doing more damage than the elder could ever imagine.
 

Sungjong chokes as Hoya hammers the last nail in his coffin, pushes the last spike of barbed wire through his heart. Both his life and heart seem torn in two as whatever hope he has been clinging onto rushes out of the gaping wound.
 

The psychological imagery of disasters rushes back with a vengeance as emotion clouds his mind, and Sungjong finds himself in a whole different reality. Thunder shakes the building as cracks appear in the walls and acidic rain and hail pelts the roof, eating holes through to the ceiling of their room, the occasional drop burning a round splash mark onto his skin. The hurricane throws a truck through the wall of their practice room; debris and shattered glass mirrors fly through the air, twinkling like deadly rain as they scatter haphazardly across the room.
 

The members don’t even flinch as it happens, unaware of the turmoil in their youngest’s mind. Sungjong runs from the room, terrified of the destruction that he is causing and heart no longer allowing him to look at the members in fear.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He wakes to the present a while later as a breeze softly fingers its way through his hair. Hot tears cascade down his cheeks to his chin where a drop takes flight, falling down into the dark chasm almost 100ft below. It’s only then that he is aware of the fact he is standing on the edge of a wooden bridge, railings long rotted off and wooden boards about to follow. The rocky floor below seems inviting.
 

 He recognises the deserted bridge as a place he used to come to when he was a trainee and he missed his adoptive family. A fitting place to end his life and return to those who love him, he thinks. The decrepit bridge is nearly an hour away from their practice room, and he has no recollection of how he got there. However he is confident that the twisting alleys and dark back roads needed to find it will allow him to accept life’s judgement, to be alone.
 

His family has abandoned him, and his group members playing him like the er he is, building up his trust only to tear it down in a heartbeat, betraying him. “What purpose do I serve?” he quietly asks the moon, voice gravelly from disuse. “Why should I remain here when those that love me are on the other side?” But the moon does not respond and he recognises once again that he is alone in this world.
 

It’s midnight and the white flag flies – he gives up, accepting the fact that he does not belong. The pain in his heart triples as memories of ‘fake’ support from the members play themselves before his eyes; pieces of broken off wire link together, wrapping themselves in a knot around his weakening body. He fights to breathe as his mind and heart go into overload; the illusory wire slithers itself around his neck in a spiked noose. Scarred tissue reopens, staining the old wood a deep red beneath his feet. The dead branches from the trees around him click as they sway, beckoning and taunting him to step forward with the promise of ending his sorrow. He swallows before sticking his leg out, foot meeting air.

An arm wraps around his waist and tugs him back roughly. His eyes widen in shock and he turns, finding Myungsoo clutching at a stitch in his side, legs shaking and skin shimmering with sweat, but narrowed eyes clearly focused on him. All at once the wire melts, the metallic liquid flowing through his veins and patching up the cuts it has rendered on his body.
 

“What the hell are you doing Sungjongie?!” The named boy smiles at the nickname. Another tear falls, this time landing on the rotting wood beneath him.
 

“I have no one left in this world – there is no love for me. I was abandoned by my biological parents and now my adoptive family has been robbed of their lives. Even our group has turned against me – all of your comforting promises were lies! You aren’t here for me, no one is – I’m alone.” He ends off quietly, watching in the prolonged moments of silence as the moon rises a bit higher in the sky.
 

“You’re wrong Jongie! All of the other members care so much for you – that’s why they were trying to stop Hoya before he said anything else. You shouldn’t pay attention to anything Hoya says right now either, you know he’s just stressed with trying to land that drama role and how much extra work it’s going to be on him. He just wants Infinite to be perfect when he isn’t with us…and Infinite wouldn’t be perfect without its maknae.” Sungjong remains quiet, his heart closed off to the elder’s words, already learning its lesson from earlier. All I want is to feel warmth and love from those who truly care for me, rather than only worry if I ruin their popularity. I want to know that I’m not alone…but I can’t find that in this world, he thinks, eyes glassy as he stares at the moon.
 

Silence drifts between the two on the bridge for a few minutes before Myungsoo shuffles forward and shyly laces their fingers together. The thunder of emotions which has always been present in his mind suddenly disperses, and Sungjong’s ears finally hear the silence of the summer night, the only disturbance the airy melody of the crickets. “This tingling feeling in my fingertips that I get when I touch your fingers: that is love.” There is another rustle of clothing and Sungjong finds his head pressed up against the other’s chest, ear right above the other’s heart. “This erratic heartbeat of mine that both races and stops just from being in your presence: that is love.”
 

Myungsoo releases him before raising their still connected hands, lightly shivering as he presses Sungjong’s cool hand to his cheek. “This warmth that you feel rushing through my skin because of your touch: that is love.” Myungsoo exhales softly and closes his eyes, allowing his head to tilt to the side and rest in Sungjong’s palm.
 

“You caught my eye when you first joined the group, and I haven’t stopped looking since. I, Kim Myungsoo, love you, Lee Sungjong. My heart almost hurts with how much I love you, but I wouldn’t have it any other way. If you decide to take your life on this bridge tonight, my heart will explode and I’ll follow you soon after. Please don’t leave me Sungjongie; I love you.”
 

Sungjong offhandedly wonders if Myungsoo is a mind reader, but that doesn’t stop the blood from rushing to his cheeks as he allows a shy smile. “You shouldn’t end your life because of me hyung,” he whispers. There is a sound of disagreement as Myungsoo slowly opens his eyes, immediately locking gazes with the younger. “My life would be over without you anyway – now that I’ve met you, I can’t let you go. Either both of us leave this bridge, or I will do whatever it takes to ensure that at least you do – even if it means dying.”
 

The threatening rain clouds lose their dark colour and give way to clouds of soft white, the black sky fading to blue; hurricane gales die off, dropping everything in its rightful place. Drawn from the disorder in his mind by Myungsoo’s words, Sungjong opens his eyes for the first time in weeks to see the true world around him. The summer moon shines a pale yellow and the crickets sing the song of the night around the two boys. The previously inviting rocky earth below the bridge is the last place he wants to be.
 

Myungsoo drops their linked hands to his side, never letting go as he pulls Sungjong back to him. He takes a step forward, toward the future and his new life; but life is unforgiving if one tries to ignore it’s judgement. He trips on a hole in the old bridge, dragging Sungjong forward and throwing him against the rotting boards. He lands on top of the younger boy, hands spread out on either side of his head to stop his fall, knees on either side of his waist.
 

The old boards creak dangerously and Myungsoo freezes, gulping as he slowly turns his head to the side to see the beams they are balanced on are half rotted through. Quickly shifting his weight and trying to stand, he is tugged back down by Sungjong. Below him, the maknae grins widely – something not appropriate to the situation, and yet Myungsoo understands the underlying meaning behind it.
 

Two hands rest themselves on his cheeks and draw his head down to the other’s. “I’m sorry,” Sungjong whispers to him, a frown replacing his smile. Myungsoo ignores the younger for a moment, quickly scrambling up and pulling the other with him. “Come on Jongie, we can’t stay here! If we just walk along the edge where it’s more reinforced we should be able to make it across!” Sungjong shakes his head and stays put when Myungsoo tries to tug him forward.

“Look, I’m sorry too: sorry that I didn’t help you sooner, and sorry that I waited so long to tell you my feelings. But the first thing I’m going to do when we get off this bridge is hold you so tight that you will never slip away again!” The boy in front of him blushes lightly and nods; a loud crack shatters the song of the night, and even the crickets stop their singing in anticipation. The moon darkens, bowing its head in acknowledgement of the two boys who are so in love on the bridge.

Mind quickly flashing through the possible outcomes, Myungsoo forcefully pulls Sungjong onto edge with him, just in time to watch the boards snap and fall into the darkness below. Heart pounding with adrenaline, Myungsoo hugs the shaking boy to him, and looks at the hole in disbelief.
 

“Shhh, we’re okay. All we have to do is walk straight along the edge and we can get off. We’re safe Sungjongie…” Sungjong nods weakly into his chest and tightens his grip on the older’s shirt. Myungsoo chuckles, “silly, we can’t go like this – we have to go one after the other.” Lightly shoving the maknae ahead of him, he watches the younger closely, concentrates on catching him if he trips or falls. However he fails to take notice of his own steps and his foot slips on the edge of the wooden beam. Time seems to slow for him as he gasps, throwing out his hand in hopes of grabbing onto something.
 

Sungjong turns just in time to see his hyung slip on the edge. Crying out he throws himself down onto the bridge in an attempt to catch Myungsoo’s outstretched hand. Fingers finding purchase on the other’s hand, he sighs in relief, only to be tugged forward from the weight.
 

“Sungjongie, just let go. I said earlier than I would do anything to ensure you left this bridge, and that includes taking my own life,” the elder yells.
 

“N-no! I c-can’t just let that happen after everything you’ve said! I didn’t realise it before but…I love you too hyung. I don-” He stops as he is dragged forward another few inches, slivers making quick work of his hand that is so desperately grasping onto anything he can hold.
 

“S-sungjong, let go!” Sungjong lets go, but not with the hand that Myungsoo had been referring to. Sliding over the edge, Sungjong tightens his grip on Myungsoo’s hand never wanting to let go of the other.
 

Myungsoo feels the strength of the arm holding him slacken a bit, and his heart nearly stops when Sungjong comes tumbling over the edge. He quickly pulls the younger to him, the boy’s well-being taking on more of a priority than the fact that he is falling.
 

“I tried hyung,” he softly hears over the sound of the air rushing past them. Tears stream down the younger’s cheeks and Myungsoo gently brushes them away, unaware of tears staining his own cheeks.

“I know you did Jongie, I know,” he replies. The boy hugs himself closer, burying his head in Myungsoo’s shoulder. “I’m scared…” Tilting the younger’s head up, he stares into the other’s eyes for the last time, seeing eyes so full of trust and love looking back at him.
 

“There’s nothing scary about love,” he whispers before closing the distance between them with a chaste kiss; their first and only kiss. Two boys fall into the darkness of the chasm; into a new life locked in each other’s arms.

END

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I thought it would be interesting to try a different style of writing than my normal: this is my first time writing in the present tense, as well as writing an angst fic, so I hope it turned out okay!

Anyway it was fun to write and experiment with different writing styles. And yes as I mentioned in the foreword, as a challenge my friend (akire18) and I received the same prompt and we decided to each write our own story of it to see how they turned out.

Thank you to everyone for reading, commenting, and subscribing!