[apokalupsis]

ORIGIN Greek from apokaluptein ‘uncover, reveal,’ from apo- ‘un-’ + kaluptein ‘to cover.’

-

Yongguk wishes he could remember if this is what happiness felt like. Before.

It’s like the world’s gotten a little brighter since you showed up, stupid as that may sound.

Having you around feels like being able to see the sun again.

He can finally breathe again.

Somehow, miraculously.

And somehow, inexplicably, Yongguk is sure he’s never been more relieved. It’s you.

-

Yongguk watched the rise and fall of your chest, watched the way you scrunched up your face and curled yourself into a ball. And, if Yongguk was being entirely honest with himself, he found it almost a little cute. Almost. A little. He’d never admit it aloud, of course, and so he settled with saying, “How was your nap?”

You shifted, wiped the sleep away from your eyes. When you spoke, you sounded about as cute as you had looked. Which wasn’t a lot. Definitely wasn’t a lot. “How long’s it been?”

It took everything in Yongguk to look away.

-

Jongup knows Yongguk isn’t going to check your apartment. He knows because part of him thinks Yongguk really doesn’t want to find out, and another part of him confirms it simply by the message from Junhong.

we r moping at Han river

Jongup likes how Junhong always include himself in every context. It’s nice of him, not letting Yongguk mope alone.

But it also , because Yongguk hyung is kind of dumb, no matter how experienced or badass he is, and believe Jongup, he knows how badass Bang Yongguk really is. Whatever dorky image the company had plastered onto their leader with permanent glue, Jongup has more than a vague idea of who his hyung is—or used to be, that is to say. And he doesn’t think Yongguk need to mope.

Himchan drives Jongup to your apartment, because, for an odd reason, the dancer has a feeling Youngjae is there. Of course, he should be there.

Only, neither of you are.

“What the hell?” Himchan curses as he and Jongup makes it to the door.

Jongup’s heart does a frantic jump off a cliff.

The door to your apartment is left ajar, and even from the outside, it is clear that it had been raided.

Jongup double checks the room number. Of course, it is this one. Unless they are on the wrong floor.

He’d been here before, when Youngjae went scouting for you all those months ago, nagging, complaining and dripping sarcasm until Jongup’s ears may or may not have bled. Youngjae had been excited then, ‘Wait until we surprise Guk hyung’ and ‘I should be working for the CIA’ and ‘Oh god, can’t wait to see the look on Yongguk hyung’s face’

Of course, it is the right place. And that makes it worse. Your apartment is a mess, and neither you nor Youngjae can be found.

“Don’t go in.” Himchan orders hastily, fishing out his phone. “I’m calling manager hyung. You call Yongguk.”

“Uh…” Jongup starts to say, doubting fully that Yongguk would ever answer any calls from him.

He calls anyway.

“What?” Daehyun picks up.

“Daehyun hyung? Why are you—”

“Tch. Yongguk hyung left his phone at the dorm. And it kept ringing for the past thirty minutes, I can’t even—”

-

The night before had been horrifying.

Youngjae’s phone rang in his palm, while he had been flinging his arms all over the place, animatedly having his nightly outbursts about Daehyun and ants and snacks stashes under the guy’s bed.

Without looking at the caller ID, he accepted the call and pressed it to his ear, because god knows he needed a break from all this ty roommate crap.

“What?”

Through the phone line, there was an insistently thunderous banging. Youngjae’s eyebrows creased.

“Hello?” Youngjae says again, a little concerned, jerking his phone away from his ear to take a look at the caller ID.

“Y-Youngjae–” It’s your voice, hushing urgently into the phone over the obnoxious thumping.

“What’s wrong? Hey, are you okay?” Youngjae says, striding away from his suspicious looking manager into his bedroom. “Hello?”

“Youngjae, he’s, he’s here.”

Youngjae froze. “What?” He started walking to his closet, fishing out whatever outfit he could find. “Isn’t Yongguk with you?”

“No, no I–” You whimpered over the shout from what obviously was the other side of the door demanding that you open up. “I, I just got back and then, I saw, I saw him.”

Youngjae hurriedly put the phone down for a second before stripping out of his pajamas and chugging on his jeans and shirt. Grabbing the phone and putting it back to his ear, he heard your desperate tone. “Please, don’t tell Yongguk. I– I think he’s, he’s–”

“You idiot,” Youngjae cursed, just about finished putting on his socks when he ordered harshly, “Stay calm. Whatever you do, do not open that damn door. I will be there as fast as I can!”

Jumping into his shoes, ignoring the shouts of his manager and Jongup’s bewildered face when Youngjae almost collided into him just out of the shower, “Go hide under your bed or some , and don’t you ing hang up.”

Then he dashed out, sprinting seven stories down the stairwell and hitching the first cab he could find.

-

Youngjae’s ankle is on fire as one of his hands grips the phone so damn hard that his knuckles turn white. He doesn’t think anything can hurt as bad as this. And Bang Yongguk and his entire bloodline, but not that Youngjae would ever say that out loud, because he might just lose his only walking crutch—which is you, by the way.

He leans his forehead against your neck, a groan escapes his throat and for a second, Youngjae forgets he is still only the phone.

“Uh…J-Jae hyung?” Junhong says through the phone line, and Youngjae lets out a strangled hum. For some reason, that stops Junhong from saying whatever it is he is planning to tell him.

“What?” Youngjae growls, and you stagger back slightly, letting out a small gasp when your back strains against his arms. “Look, Junhong. You are going to have to speak up over this excruciating throbbing in a certain part of my body that– hang on, I’m getting another call.”

Youngjae, with difficulty, puts the phone on hold and gesture for you to take it.

“You answer this one,” Youngjae grunts. “Whoever it is, tell them to off because I am going to drown myself in the ing Han river.”

You look at him dryly, taking the phone and accepting the call and says robotically, “Hello, this is Youngjae’s assistant speaking. He wants you, whoever you are, to eff off because he is about to drown himself in the effing Han river.”

“Hello?” It’s Jongup’s baffled voice.

Your breath hitches, “Jongup?”

Youngjae groans, broken lips brushing against your collarbone. The action goes unnoticed by both of you. “Thank gods. Where is he?”

“Is, is that Jae hyung’s voice? Is he okay?”

You bite your lip guiltily as Youngjae watches you from under his bangs. “Just tell him you idiot.” Youngjae demands, nuzzling his feverish face against your warmer skin, “Ugh, why aren’t you made of ice?”

“Hello?”

“Uh, hi. Jongup. Youngjae, I think his ankle is broken–”

“It is broken, tard,” Youngjae snaps crudely.

“–uh, yeah. Can you, please–” you take the phone away from your ear and whisper close to his cheek, “–do you want him to–”

“Yes, tell him to come get me. Please.” Youngjae grumbles, pulling you closer against him.

“–We are at the Han river, can you, can you come get him?” You purse your lips anxiously, “Please?”

“He’s hurt? What happened to your house?” Jongup hacks, as if he’s running, “We’ll be right there, tell hyung I’m bringing Himchan hyung with me.”

-

Junhong decides to take a cab back, or that is what he tells Yongguk anyway.

As for Yongguk he is too distracted to make out whether it is a lie or the truth. He isn’t in the mood to play good leader. He is angry. He wants to hit something.

He finds himself in a coffee shop. He runs into his brother.

Yongnam clearly is one step ahead of him. Seems like he’d already found something to hit.

“What happened to you?” Yongnam’s voice is loud and low in the coffee shop.

Yongguk looks up from his stupid coffee and frowns at his twin.

He snorts, “What happened to you? Is that a black eye?”

Yongnam grunts and slumps down in his seat. He then groans as if not only his face had been hit but his back also hurts.

Yongguk raises a brow and the other swats him off.

“Got into a fight kind of,” Yongnam says. “ing hang over.”

“What is it about this time?” Yongguk grumbles, wanting to keep his mind off his own problems.

Yongnam steals Yongguk’s coffee and drinks it before grimacing at the bitter contents.

“I got drunk. What else.” Yongnam shrugs. “Just some stupid kid.”

“A stupid kid who managed to give you a black eye?”

Yongnam glares at Yongguk and presses, “I was drunk.”

Yongguk snorts anyway, deciding to humour his twin a little. “I suppose the kid got it worse, didn’t he?”

Yongnam is quiet for a few thoughtful seconds before confessing past Yongguk’s coffee cup.

“I shoved him down the stairs.”

“What?”

-

(xiii)

Yongguk doesn’t go back to the dorm. He goes AWOL.

Three days later, Yongguk ends up following through with Yongnam’s orders. He has nothing better to do anyway. His love life is so he better try fixing his twin’s just to kill time.

Apparently, Yongnam’s girl works part-time in an art gallery in the city. Yongguk is starting to understand why the people here do not favour his twin much. But his brother could’ve just borrowed Yongguk’s clothes or something. It’d have the same effect.

“You’re here again?” The security eyes him dryly.

“Sorry, but the only time I’ve ever been here is with my twin when I was five.”

“Your twin?”

He nods as abashed and polite as possible, plastering on his idol smile. “Yes, my identical twin.”

“Iden–“ the security falters, then colour drains from his face. “You’re the famous one? Oh, sir, I apologise, it’s just–“

As Yongguk makes way inside, it dawns to him that he does not know the name of Yongnam’s girl.

Great.

But he’s gotten her number, as his brother had given it to him just in case. In case of what, Yongguk doesn’t know. He, himself, is kind of reluctant to call a stranger, and cannot imagine how ‘reluctant’ that stranger will be when the twin brother shows up.

He doesn’t even have his own phone with him. It’s still back at the dorm. He’d bought this cheap one a day ago just for temporary use.

When Yongguk stares at the number on the phone until he’s sure nothing is going to happen if he doesn’t press the call button, he presses the call button.

Yongguk takes a moment to immerse himself in the paintings in the gallery, as well as pottery and sculptures he knew are pretty recent. There is this enormous canvas, twice his height, depicting a very realistic tree that had been drawn by just 2B pencils. That is really something.

So it takes Yongguk a moment to return from his trance, hearing the a shrill ringtone echo through the empty hall.

Suspiciously, he follows it. Past the painting of a giant clock, and a sculpture of a man being hung by his neck. Yongguk makes sure to be extra careful, because, premonitions, dude. And anyway, the phone stops ringing before he can actually find the source. He tries calling again but no sharp screeching broke through the air.

Cool, that means he could probably return to his dorm in time for curfew if he made a run for it now–

“Yongguk?” a voice asked shyly from behind him and he wheeled around, because that voice, he could recognise anywhere; Yongguk’s heart had already jumped into his throat. “Yongguk, what are you doing here?”

There you are. He immediately tensed, not sure what he is supposed to do.

“Is everything okay?” you ask, taking a step towards him, fidgeting with your hands. “I hadn’t heard from you for a few days…” You press your lips together and then look down at your feet. “I thought maybe– maybe you–” you in a sharp breath and then look up again. You give him a tight smile. “Never mind. Can I help you with anything?”

Yongguk frowns at this.

“I…” he begins coldly. “I’m running an errand. Have you seen this girl…who…”

Yongguk trails off, the frown slipping off of his face. He scans you up and down and back. You begin to pale at the silence. He blinks. You are wearing a blue skirt and white blouse. On your chest in the museum’s badge with your name on it.

Then it hits him why that ringtone is so familiar.

“You, you’re,“ he fumbles, the weight of it crushes him. A wave of cold cold cold washes over him.

He feels as if he’d just swallowed a knife.

This isn’t right.

ing Bang Yongnam.

“Yongguk,” you say uncertainly, reaching for him.

Yongnam. You are Yongnam’s.

“I need to go,” Yongguk wheezes, turns and strides away without looking back.

-

Yongguk thinks he should have known better. He is never going to stop running, never going to find a safe place to lie down and just breathe.

The sun, the air are trying to burn him alive, day after day, but he had kept on going. Refuse to stop. He’d come too far, been through too much to throw in the towel now. He may be broken, but broken pieces can be mended and maybe this life is worth living after all and maybe at some point he’ll find a way to heal and start believing in happiness again. He thought he could do it, as long as he was with you.

But then he finds out you were never his to begin with and the world goes dark again.

-

[apokalupsis]

ORIGIN Greek from apokaluptein ‘uncover, reveal,’ from apo- ‘un-’ + kaluptein ‘to cover.’