I n f i n i t e  H o r i z o n s

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Youngjae felt like slamming his head against the wall out of frustration. His eyes glaring at the piece of blank paper staring right at him as if to mock him.

He felt nothing. His mind empty and unfocused.

He leaned back on his chair, fingers rubbing at his temples to stop the upcoming headache. He felt like giving up. Almost. It was one of those days where he just didn't feel it, his mind somewhere else and his body on the verge of collapsing. Sleepless nights were finally catching up to him.

His eyes traced the palms of his hand presented in front of his eyes, the way his fingers moved under his every command, but failed to deliver what is the most important in his life – his skills to draw.

He felt betrayed.

Youngjae swallowed a lump forming in his throat, eyes darting around the mess he created. Pieces of torn and crumbled paper decorated most of his floor - a sea of whiteness. A failure.

“It's not working”, he whispered to himself. “It stopped working long time ago”. Only silence met his ears. “I can't feel anything.”

He threw himself on his bed, eyes closing to block the harsh reality that tried crash down on him, restlessly surrendering himself to sleep.

Because all them started the same.

Youngjae found himself in the art-classroom again, his fingers lovingly tracing one paintings hung on the wall. “I lack nothing”, he mumbled in his self defence. “You're wrong.”

He had skills, skills that everyone acknowledged and praised – a truly gifted child. No one doubted, it was a proven fact. He tried to wrap his mind around that thought, but it felt so foreign so out there it was hard for him to acknowledge it. There wasn't anyone as passionate as him. “So, why?”

“Because you're selfish.”

He spun around so fast, ready to lash out at whoever dared  to speak but no words came out of his mouth.

“You are selfish arrogant prick who doesn't deserve to have that skill. It's only wasted on you.” That mouth, that cocky smirk he so desperately wanted to wipe off made his body boil in anger.

“Y-You-”

“What?” the trespasser asked in mock shock: “Can't handle the truth?” That annoying smirk plastered on his face again.

Never to back down from the challenge, Youngjae, flung himself towards the taller male ready to offer his piece of mind, but found himself face-planting into the wall so fast he didn't even have time to blink.

“What the-”

“Now listen to me you punk” another merciless push to the wall made his eyes water and teeth clench in disobedience. “I have followed your since you stepped your foot in this school. You might not know me, but I know absolutely everything there's to know about you. I don't like you nor your attitude.” Youngjae struggled to breath, his fingers clawing at the wall. He felt dizzy.

“You are nothing but a fake illusion. There's nothing there. You resonate nothing.” A hot breath tickling his ear, poisoning his mind.

“You're nothing but a failure”.

His eyes went impossibly wide, his body freezing upon impact. 'You're a failure' rang in his head loud and clear in his clouded mind.

“No” escaped past his lips so weak you could barely hear it. His body slumped, sliding down the wall just seconds after he felt those strong arms leave his body.

“I'm done with you”

Youngjae turned to face the person who dared to question his very existence, eyes promising silent revenge. The later just scoffed at him as he bid him goodbye. It felt so surreal.

He let out a shaky breath, running his fingers through his messy hair. He felt mesmerized. Those eyes ingrained in his memory for good.

His heart thumped - a foreign sound to his ears. His body tingled in pleasure, a tiny spark lighting up his eyes – hope. Youngjae smiled.

His days in the art-classroom were exchanged in observing a person who wrecked him inside and out. It wasn't that hard to track him down either. Popular, eye-catching, full of life – he felt like a moth drawn to a flame. Youngjae felt like he's dreaming.

It took him weeks of planning beforehand to approach the other male. Those eyes spoke in volumes.

He wasn't welcomed.

“I-I...Can I-”, he stumbled over his words feeling embarrassed. His mind involuntary going back to their encounter.

“You have changed. Your eyes – they're different.”

Youngjae hung his head low to hide his flushing face. He bit the inside of his cheek as he peeked though bangs obstructing his vision.

“Look at you acting so cute” a playful jab at his shoulder. “I want to pinch your cheeks so bad~”

Youngjae stared at the other in horror, his feet moving him backwards in defence. “Wait. Don't-” too late. He felt his body stiffen as he felt arms embrace him in earnest and strong smell of perfume invading his nostrils. “I think I'm falling for you”.

A good aimed punch sent the other crashing to the ground. He nursed his swollen cheek with an obvious pout on his lips.“Youngjae~”

“Stay away”, he growled out threateningly. “I dare you to touch me again.”

Rich laughter reached his ears and he felt alive. He lacked nothing.

They were inseparable since then.

Himchan had a lot of talents: he could play a wide range of instruments, had ability to make you laugh effortlessly and had a way with his words. He made you feel and Youngjae lived off that.

“I want you to draw for me” Himchan asked him one day when they were hanging out after school. “I have this story planned out, but...” he trailed off with a sight.

Youngjae furrowed his brows in concentration.”You mean like some sort of comic?”

“Something like that”, a sheepish smile. “A friend of mine suggested this idea. Playing instruments isn't as rewarding financially you know. It doesn't mean that I'm quitting. And, hey! Don't give me that stare”, he aimed his death glare at Youngjae. “Consider it as a side project, some extra work on your part. That friend has some fancy connections up there so we don't have to pay anything to publish it.”

Youngjae rubbed his eyes, feeling tired all of the sudden. “Are you high on caffeine again?”

“What? No!” a panicked look. “Just do me a favour. Give it a shot, please? We can choose pen names. No one will know. Only you and I.”

“....”

“We're like a match made in heaven. Don't you see?”

"You're using pick-up lines on me now?" He yelled out horrified.

Youngjae felt his stomach fill with dread. He knew what was coming next. “Aright!” he shouted with his hands up in surrender. “Just stop with those cute faces or I'll punch you again.”

“Never~”

He lacked nothing. Himchan made sure of that.

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How many of you expected Daehyun instead of Himchan? Hahaha 

Now that Youngjae's background is out of the way the pace should pick up a bit.  Aren't they both cute? :) I hope it wasn't confusing to read. You get to see another glimpse of his past through his dream. Thanks for stopping by to read! :)