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Yifan had his first relapse at 23 after two years of struggling to be clean. He overdosed when he got his hands on the drugs Chanyeol and Zitao had been working hard to get away from him.

He woke up in a room; everything was white apart from the blue blanket keeping him warm and his sky blue pillows.

Chanyeol was by his side, holding his hand tightly and his head in Yifan’s lap.

He wanted to reach out, wanted to run his fingers through the younger’s dark locks, but his body failed to co-operate with him, he decided to try sleeping the stiffness off after many failed attempts of trying to control his body.

When he woke, everything was swimming and spinning, his mind disoriented. The voices above him were just too loud; he wanted to hit someone in the mouth.

His hands shook and he knew what his body wanted, what his system was craving, for it to function.

He spent Chanyeol’s 21^st birthday in the hospital bed. He apologized halfheartedly before asking Chanyeol to blow him.

He was later discharged from the hospital days later, Chanyeol and Zitao struggled to pay his bill, but they managed with the help from Baekhyun after Zitao got on his knees.

Baekhyun was back in Zitao’s life and his life while he was out of it, Baekhyun did act like Yifan was a wall – he got ignored and everyone favored it that way.

Yifan would never admit that he had a lot in common with Baekhyun because the guy was a damn snob and acted like he was above them all when in reality he was a disowned child and they all lived ty lives, in the tiest part of town that Chanyeol keeps trying to leave behind.

When he had met Chanyeol, the younger had been wishing to audition at some big entertainment company in the country; his determined dream was to be a celebrity – to reach for the stars.

Yifan knew he crashed that dream. He wasn’t exactly the most supporting boyfriend; he had forgotten a lot of what JoonMyun had taught him – to not be selfish.

Chanyeol loved him and he used that to his advantage – kept him by his side. There was always one in the relationship who just gave a little more than other and Yifan was glad it wasn’t him.

Chanyeol’s eyes are big, brown and ing beautiful – his eyes were easy to look into and lie to. Yifan lied to him every night before he shut his eyes, “Of course. I love you, too.”

And Yifan only grew angrier at himself as the days went day.

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Beer glasses were broken one night and his jaw was badly bruised. He was back in the hospital for the second time in the same month and this time his older brother, Luhan, had paid for his bill.

Chanyeol had tracked him down and Yifan only felt anger when he found out what the younger had done. He didn’t remember ever mentioning Luhan’s name to Chanyeol or anyone else.

He felt possessive over his older brother and anger towards his boyfriend who normally kept him content.

He had to have been drunk when he mentioned Luhan’s name; he knew he was pretty stupid when he was faced.

His anger only grew as soon as they returned home, still at Zitao’s place even after years of savings – he couldn’t get his own damn place because his savings always finished before he made his way to the bank and Chanyeol’s always went to his health and needs.

Yifan’s jaw was aching as he glared at Chanyeol, the pain didn’t stop him from harshly voicing out his frustrations at the younger.

“Who the hell told you to talk to him, Chanyeol?” He demanded, he advanced towards the man and he harshly grabbed his wrist, he jerked the lanky boy forward.

He knew Zitao was somewhere in the house, Baekhyun was probably with him too – Yifan was glad they stayed out of it.

“You’re hurting yourself,” Chanyeol hissed out, he wasn’t one to get easily intimidated by anyone and that was what Yifan liked about him. “And you’re ing hurting me too, you selfish bastard.” He snapped and tried to yank his arm away, Yifan only tightened his grip.

“What do you know about me?” Yifan hissed and shoved at him; Chanyeol stumbled backwards, but held his balance, “What the do you know about me?” His voice bloomed throughout the house. The drugs from the night before at the bar hadn’t completely left his system and he was still a tad bit crazy from the fight in the bar.

“I know you need help, Yifan!” Chanyeol screamed, his voice cracked at the end of his sentence and it was as though a fist squeezed Yifan’s heart. “You can’t keep doing this to yourself – you can’t keep doing this to me. It’s not fair.”

His mood of sympathy vanished in a flash as he stared at the gorgeous man who stood before him – always one step behind him. “It’s not fair?” He asked harshly, he saw the flinch and the hesitate step back the younger took.

“It’s not.” He heard the soft whisper after a moment of unbearable tension.

He in a deep breath and clenched his fists to his sides, “You know nothing about me. Don’t fool yourself into thinking –”

“That’s because you never let me in!” Chanyeol shouted, his chest heaving like he had difficulty breathing. “I’d do anything for you – I just want you to trust me and let me help you.” His breath hitched before he continued, “I love you.” He watched as the first few tears escaped those big eyes, they trailed down the rounded rosy cheeks he never admitted he was fond of.

Yifan thought Chanyeol’s tears made him look more beautiful and they only fueled his anger.

Chanyeol wasn’t supposed to cry. Chanyeol wasn’t supposed to tell him he loved him or that he needed help.

He needed to get Chanyeol to shut the up – the mere sight of the younger had his blood boiling for reasons his brain failed to comprehend.

Perhaps it was jealously because despite where they all live, the ty town with poor excuses called human beings, Chanyeol still had a smile on his face. Chanyeol had his life on track and Yifan was a mess.

A sudden wave of anger rushed through him and he clenched his fists. He wanted to release and express his anger. His mother wasn’t here for him to anger and Yixing wasn’t in sight for him to scowl at or insult.

His father was dead and nothing but rot in his grave like he deserved.

And Luhan was not around to baby him into anything.

Yifan allowed his body to do what it desired and Chanyeol was his target – he raised his fist and connected his knuckle to Chanyeol’s jaw.

He let himself be blinded by rage, wanted to make someone feel the hurt he had carried as a child – since his father left and Luhan never kept his promise to take him away.

Chanyeol was like an open target because he was foolish for loving him and for thinking that he was able to love.

All the hate he has ever felt drove him a little bit insane and he hit Chanyeol with all the strength his drugged body could possess.

The second, third and fourth time his fists landed on Chanyeol’s struggling body before he was being forced off the bloodied quivering body on the floor by Zitao and Baekhyun.

That was the last he saw of Chanyeol. They never officially broke up, too.

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He went to bed every night and dreamt of Death extending his hand to him, urging him to take it and Yifan turned to face the wall – he wasn’t a ing coward.

Without Chanyeol, the world was a whole lot scarier than he remembered it to be and he used enough meth to kill him.

Chanyeol was the best thing that happened to him and he realized it much too late. He lost his anchor – he never stopped using with Chanyeol, but at least he had someone to keep him grounded.

He was falling.

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“Eat,” Zitao ordered as he passed the bowl of warm rice over to him and Yifan looked at the empty seat beside his best friend. Baekhyun was all but a memory and Chanyeol was someone they barely spoke of because Yifan always felt the need to take a shot, to get meth into his blood just to forget how badly he allowed himself to up.

“Not hungry,” Yifan muttered, but his thinning frame said otherwise.

“I won’t let you die, Yifan.” Zitao promised.

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He was twenty-six when he went back to therapy because he owed a lot to Zitao and wanted to please him and because Luhan flew from Japan to beg him in person, leaving his own children for him.

Therapy failed, but they kept trying. He wondered if they already knew he gave up the second he knew Chanyeol would never return to him.

“Stop this,” Luhan barked when he caught him with the needle in his hand on one of the many nights he failed to brush Chanyeol’s tears stained face from his mind.

Chanyeol was his anchor and Yifan needed him to hold him down. Yifan couldn’t be his own anchor – he just couldn’t.

“I’ll quit tomorrow.” He promised with a faint smile and leaned into Luhan’s embrace after dropping the needle.

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He was home alone when Death extended his cold hand towards him with a smile, “Ready?” Yifan crumbled the piece of paper in his left hand as he crawled up in bed with no wish of tomorrow.

My only regret is never looking for you.

¤¤¤¤

….

I’m sorry?? 

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