WARNING: THE FOLLOWING CHAPTER CONTAINS IMPLICATIONS OF BULLYING AND  (SODOMY). THOSE WHO ARE UNCOMFORTABLE WITH SUCH TOPICS, PLEASE DO NOT CONTINUE.

A/N: I will not be rating this story as H because while bullying and is mature content, it is not adult content. Even if you are a 12-year-old, you should know and understand these two topics. These are serious issues and I am only putting this warning for people who might find the following content as a trigger for traumatising experiences.

Sunlight streams into the bedroom through translucent, thin curtains. The lump on the single-sized bed squirms; tufts of dyed black hair are visible from under the white, embroidered duvet. A jarring alarm blares throughout the room and the lump squirms some more, a hand emerging from under the sheets to reach for the cell phone on the bedside table.

The plain white cell phone vanishes underneath the sheets, along with the hand, and the alarm is silenced. For a while, there are no movements and everything is hushed. It seems almost like the lump of a person had even managed to return to peaceful slumber until the bedroom door slams open. A middle-aged, well-dressed woman enters the room, critically eyeing the unmoving lump on the bed.

"Junhyung, your father is running a tight schedule. Don't waste his time," the woman speaks sharply as she walks over to the bed, flipping the duvets off of the lump. The lump turns out to be a young man, in his mid-teens, curled up into a foetal position on his bed. He cracks an eye open to look at his mother, her arms folded across her chest and a commanding aura about her. He lets out a soft sigh – one that isn't missed by his mother but purposely ignored – pulls himself into a sitting position and nods tiredly. She doesn't move for a moment, examining him to make sure that he won't fall back into bed, before she turns on her heel and exits the room without closing the door.

Junhyung, the young teen, in the midst of his adolescence, drags himself off his bed with heavy feet and sluggish moments. He heads straight into the attached bathroom to wash up, padding cautiously from carpeted floor to cold marble. A splash of water to the face and a thorough brushing of his teeth prepares Junhyung for his day. He runs a cursory hand through his hair, his mind still hazed over with sleep. He has a comb kept in the front pocket of his backpack, so he decides to deal with ebony black locks later.

Junhyung shuffles back into his bedroom; shoulders hunched and darkened eye bags are evidence of a poor night's sleep. He opens the wardrobe of his bedroom, kicking his door shut, and pulls out his school uniform. He strips himself of his pyjamas, down to just his underwear, and stares at his body in the mirror on the door of his wardrobe. The full-length mirror reflects his entire body, unlike the one on his bathroom wall. He runs a critical eye over his reflection, it's something that runs in the family, and he slides his hands over parts of his body. He feels for bones under the bumpy stretch of his skin.

There are stretch marks all over his body from his weight loss; some of the marks on his body are scars. He pauses over a crescent-shaped one on his shoulder and closes his eyes at the memory that washes over him. It takes a few moments before Junhyung can open his eyes and continue his regular morning review of his body. When he does open his eyes, he can hear himself breathing heavily, his body instinctively trembles at the memory of the pain that was inflicted upon it. He pushes the thoughts from his mind and traces the curves of his body from chest to waist to hip to thighs to calves. He goes as far as his arms can reach without him bending.

He traces his hands over his body once more, in reverse order. He pauses at his hips, pressing gentle fingertips onto bruised skin at the dig of his hipbone. Junhyung winces when he accidentally applies too much pressure and moves on. He counts the number of protruding rib bones he can see, repeating twice to make sure he doesn't miscount. It calms him as he slides hands from ribcage to abdomen, like going from one step on a flight of stairs to another. He spins the metal ring on his index finger; the black printed words "stay strong" don't mean much anymore, but he still appreciates the gift from his younger brother.

Junhyung pulls on his uniform, smoothing creases and neatly tucking his shirt into his pants with practised ease when he hears the sound of footsteps along the hallway outside of his door. He doesn't want anyone coming in and looking at him. He doesn't want anyone to see what anorexia has reduced him to. He doesn't want anyone to see him and tell him what he already knows; that he isn't beautiful. He examines his appearance in the mirror, making sure that the two layers of inner shirts under his white button-up aren't visible, before he closes the wardrobe door, which in turn hides the full-length mirror. He grabs his backpack and stuffs his cell phone into his pant pocket after checking the time.

He steps from the carpeted flooring of his room onto the cool parquet flooring of the rest of the house. His younger brother, a sweet middle schooler, rises from his spot at the dining table and greets Junhyung with a wave and a bright smile. Junhyung returns the smile and wave with small ones of his own and cannot help but chuckle when Junsung barrels into his side. He can feel his elbow digging into Junsung's sides and he sees the way Junsung's smile falters for a moment, but he does his best to ignore all of these.

The two of them trot out of the almost-luxurious apartment and toward the lift that will bring them to the basement car park of their apartment block. Their mother reprimands them for being affectionate in public and swipes a few harsh combs through Junhyung's hair, grumbling about poor grooming. She is careful not to touch Junhyung's gaunt cheekbones or his angular jaw. The older of the two brothers doesn't mind, he merely smiles at his mother and thanks her for managing his hair for him. Junsung shoots a look at his older brother and his mother, but he remains silent as well.

They don't speak as they walk toward an unexceptional black car amongst other unexceptional cars of dull colours. Their mother takes the front passenger seat and the two boys slip quietly into the backseat. Their father clicks his tongue impatiently as they settle into their seats and buckle up. His stern demeanour lengthens their silence and no words are exchanged as the black car drives out of the parking lot, then the basement car park and onto the road. The speakers are still and quiet, no music or the voices of DJs stream from them. The only sounds are the hum of the engine and the air conditioning cooling the air, occasionally disturbed by the ticking of the car signals.

The car slows down on the street along Junhyung's old middle school and he looks out to the school gates, almost expecting to see Hyunseung waiting for him, racket in hand. He is disappointed, as he has been for every day of the past three years, but he waves a silent goodbye to Junsung. Their father reminds the younger brother to be on his best behaviour and to keep their father's reputation in mind when interacting with other children. Junsung nods obediently and gives Junhyung a reassuring nudge before clambering out of the car and jogging toward the school gate. The black car doesn't wait for Junsung to enter the school before it is pulling back onto the main road.

The ride from Junhyung's middle school to his high school is not a short one, so Junhyung pulls out one of his smaller textbooks and his mp3 player. He flips through the textbook without reading the words and drowns himself in the smooth flow of English rap music, one word blending into the next. His parents don't speak to each other and neither of them addresses him because of the sure-fire defence of his textbook. After several songs, Junhyung stows his mp3 player and textbook back into his backpack, his high school looming into view from a distance. He makes sure that his mp3 player is kept in the most inaccessible and inconspicuous compartment of his bag before he zips up his backpack.

"Study hard," Junhyung's father instructs simply before the teenager gets off of the car. Once again, the black car doesn't wait for Junhyung to reach the school gate before it has melded back into the messy stretch of vehicles dropping students off on their way to offices. Junhyung doesn't head straight into the school. He checks the time on his cell phone before walking toward one of the convenience stores next to his school. There aren't many students loitering around; most of the seniors have already begun cramming in their classes and the rest of the school population are hanging out with each other in homeroom. Seoul University High School is a prestigious high school that accepts only the rich and intelligent, so none of the students mix with riff-raff from other schools. Junhyung doesn't know of any student in the school that has friends from other schools.

Junhyung ducks into the safety of the convenience store right before a busload of students alight at the nearest bus stop, swarming straight into the school. The usual cashier, Seungho, acknowledges Junhyung with a nod as the teenager squeezes behind the counter to sit at Seungho's legs. There are 15 minutes more before homeroom starts. Junhyung takes 5 minutes to sprint to his homeroom class on the third floor of the school from the convenience store, so he has 10 minutes to burn.

10 minutes that would be enough for some of his classmates to have their merry way with him.

Seungho doesn't question him, has never questioned him since the second day of his first year in high school, but instead holds out a small carton of milk. Junhyung accepts the milk gratefully, but he only takes a small sip of the fresh milk. He knows that Seungho pays for the daily morning milk with his own money, but a glimpse at the nutritional facts stops Junhyung from being more appreciative. He knows Seungho will just take the carton for himself after Junhyung leaves, so that makes him feel a bit better. They don't make much conversation because Junhyung is hidden from public view and the tinkle of bells tells Junhyung that there are customers in the convenience store. Seungho would look insane if he spoke to Junhyung, so they don't converse.

On days when the small store is empty though, Seungho tells Junhyung about himself. Some days, he talks about his fussy girlfriend. Some days, he tells Junhyung about his parents who nag at him all day for working at a convenience store. Some days, he tells Junhyung about his own high school days and hanging out with a friend called Byunghee who sang like an angel. Some days, even without customers, Seungho just remains quiet and stares out of the store windows. On days when Seungho doesn't speak, Junhyung just cradles his carton of milk, as quiet as Seungho, and thinks of Hyunseung.

He finds it hard to forget about the other boy, even though they had separated after middle school for different high schools. Hyunseung had pursued his interests of tennis at a specialised sports school that had offered him a scholarship. Hyunseung's family wasn't very rich, they couldn't have afforded to send him to a half-decent school, so Hyunseung had taken on the scholarship at the Seoul Elite Academy of Young Athletes. Junhyung's parents had insisted that he attend only the most prestigious academic schools that were affiliated with a top university, so they had sent him the Seoul University High School, his current high school. Seoul University High School was affiliated with Seoul University, the top university of South Korea, and his parents hoped for him to become a well-respected doctor or lawyer.

Junhyung thinks about the other teenager. He wonders if Hyunseung still has his natural black hair or if the other had dyed his hair. He wonders if Hyunseung is still as off topic and frustratingly vague. He wonders if Hyunseung is still the fountain of wisdom and brilliant advice he was to Junhyung in middle school. He wonders if Hyunseung has found another person to replace Junhyung in high school. Junhyung thinks a lot about Hyunseung, the handsome young boy that had held a hand out to Junhyung in middle school. Junhyung thinks a lot about the beautiful boy that he had found himself ineffably in love with after they had both graduated from middle school.

Junhyung scrolls through his meagre contact list on his cell phone and stops at Hyunseung's name. He doesn't know if the number he has still works, because Hyunseung had moved away to the dormitory of his high school and he hasn't contacted the other male since middle school graduation. Once in a while, he writes text messages to Hyunseung that he never sends.

Junhyung never sends the messages because he has learnt in high school that he isn't anyone of significance. He has learnt that he is merely a good-looking face with smart brains, but no substance or material. He has learnt that he is merely an annoyance to others. He has learnt that he is wrong, he is not enough, he is too much of this and too little of that. Junhyung has learnt that he is undeserving and never enough.

He doesn't want to bother Hyunseung because Hyunseung is everything Junhyung is not. Hyunseung is perfect and flawless and pure. Hyunseung is beautiful. Hyunseung probably wouldn't remember the shy, reticent boy that he had taken pity on in middle school either.

Seungho taps Junhyung on the head lightly, pointing to the clock on the counter top. The high school student rises to his feet, adjusting his uniform to make sure that he is presentable and treads a useless hand through his hair before squeezing out from behind the counter. He bows to Seungho politely before exiting the convenience store. He tightens his grip on his backpack before he runs off in the direction of his school, the school discipline masters herding late students into the closing gates of the school.

---

Junhyung slouches in his seat, his pencil moving across his notebook on autopilot. He is taking notes from the whiteboard and from what his teacher recites from the textbook, but he isn't really listening to the teacher. His left hand is itching to reach across to his right wrist. He wants to feel the skin of his right wrist under the pads of his fingers, feel the lines of his veins and press against the beat of his pulse. He wants to run back to Seungho's convenience store and hide behind the cashier counter again, but he can't.

He looks up at the clock hanging on the wall. It's 4th period. Junhyung tries not to think about 5th period. He focuses on the trigonometry questions in front of him, sine, cosine and tangents. He focuses on the value of x. He fights to push the thoughts of 5th period out of his mind, but he loses against himself and barely raises his hand before running out of the his classroom to the nearest bathroom.

He slams the door of his cubicle shut and locks it with shaky fingers. The door is a weak wall of defence against what 5th period brings, but Junhyung hopes, as he does each day, that they will hold up against his 5th period monsters nonetheless. He folds his legs up onto the porcelain of the toilet bowl, just as the bell for lunch rings.

He holds his breath as he waits, only inhaling every once in a while when he hears distant footsteps. Junhyung doesn't relax, there is no way to relax, there is no way to prepare himself or calm himself for what is about to happen. He can only furiously rub his fingers over the pulse on his right wrist and think of the blood that is pumping through his veins. He thinks of Hyunseung. He thinks of surviving another day. He thinks of surviving so that he can be good enough, one day. He thinks of surviving because he has to become better, he has to become good enough; he has to show these people that he can be more than what they say he is.

When Junhyung hears the approaching footsteps, when he sees the shadows of shoes and watches as the cubicle lock shudders open, he exhales softly. He is, after all, just the way they say he is.

---

After they leave, Junhyung curls up into a foetal position on the floor of the bathroom. In his first year, Junhyung would still cry. He would still cry and his face would be tear-tracked. Now, Junhyung just lies on the floor, one cheek pressed against the cold tiles of the toilet floor, willing the pain in his back and his away. Junhyung doesn't care about whether the floor is clean or dirty, if it's dirty, he isn't clean either. He is numb except for the pain in his back and his .

A few minutes pass of him lying still on the floor, before a strong wave of nausea hits Junhyung. He heaves himself off of the ground with shaking arms and manages to rest his chin on the toilet seat before he retches the contents of his stomach. There isn't much for him to purge from his stomach, just the small sip of milk that he had at the convenience store and pale green stomach acid. He wipes the spit from his mouth with his sleeve. His physical appearance and presentation are the farthest things from his mind right now. He doesn't even care if his teachers see him in the disgusting state that he is in right now. He doesn't even care if his teachers expel him, because being kicked out of Seoul University High School sounds like a much better prospect than staying right now.

He wipes the traces of his classmates' ion from his body and throws the tissues down the toilet bowl to be flushed away with his vomit. He doesn't bother to clean the evidence from his clothes, because he has a spare uniform in his backpack, has had one since the second day of first year. He knows how hard it is to clean the from his clothes because he has tried more than once, out of frustration. He moves gingerly, he has never grown accustomed to the pain of forceful penetration, and he hobbles out of the bathroom and back to class.

When he enters class, no one acknowledges him. There is time left from lunch, from 5th period, so there are only students in his classroom. They don't acknowledge him because some of them are the ones who were just in the bathroom with him. Some of them are witnesses who have seen, who know. Some of them just don't care; he is merely the plaything of the class. So Junhyung can take his spare uniform from his backpack without being bothered by anyone. No one looks at him as he hobbles back out of class and Junhyung almost allows himself to feel relieved when someone grabs him by the wrist and drags him back toward the bathroom that he had just left.

Junhyung doesn't fight. There isn't any fight left in him anymore. He is much weaker than all of the other male students in his class anyway, so he doesn't try to claw at hands that throw him into his usual cubicle. He doesn't even try to break his own fall as his back crashes against unforgiving, rigid porcelain. He doesn't kick or scratch at hands that unbuckle his belt and rip down his pants. He isn't even surprised when he looks up and sees the new substitute teacher, a young male just a handful of years older than the students. He just submits to the pain that tears him apart again and again.

When it ends, he hears a rough and low apology in his ears as pants are pulled up and a belt is buckled. Junhyung doesn't know how to feel this time. If he was numb from his classmates, he doesn't even know how to feel from his substitute English teacher. He looks at his spare uniform, sullied and crushed on the floor next to him. Junhyung thinks he feels a bit of annoyance, because the teacher could have kept his spare uniform clean but now Junhyung has nothing clean to wear. He hears the bell for 6th period ring and Junhyung thinks 5th period is over. He has survived another 5th period. He has survived. He is alive. He can still feel his blood rushing in his veins and he wonders if Hyunseung would be proud of him.

Junhyung thinks he has exhausted all of his emotions when he stares up blankly to see his homeroom teacher, his principal, his vice-principal and his discipline master from the floor of his cubicle.

---

Junhyung doesn't speak when questioned by his principal, a heavy blanket wrapped around his shivering body. He doesn't think it would make a difference to tell the principal if the substitute had violated him. It wouldn't change the fact that he had already been violated.

He can only feel shame when his mother looks away from him, sobbing as she clings onto his father's arm, never touching him. He thinks the only feeling he is allowed to feel is shame when they walk out of principal's office and gesture for him to follow. He thinks he only deserves to feel shame as he sits in the back of the unexceptional black car and is driven home.

---

Junsung hugs Junhyung when he comes home from school. Junhyung is cleaner now. He has washed and scrubbed away all traces of being violated. He is clean enough to touch Junsung, at least. Junsung cries into Junhyung's shoulder, clutching onto his older brother with his life. Junhyung doesn't understand, his baby brother who should be just as disgusted with him as his parents are, but he holds onto Junsung with uncertain hands anyway.

At dinner, his father tells him to think of another school that he might be interested in. His mother tells him to keep a standard of academic excellence in mind as he chooses a new school, her voice shaking. Junhyung manages to down a mouthful of rice and some soup before he excuses himself from the table. He goes back to his room and burrows into his bed.

Junhyung curls up into a foetal position, his most comfortable position, and pushes all thoughts out of his head. He doesn't think of the regret he feels at being taken out of the school after wishing to be. He doesn't think of how disappointed his parents must be that they can no longer tell their relatives that Junhyung is enrolled into Seoul University High School. He doesn't think of how disgusted his mother must be with him. He doesn't think of how angry his father must be now that he can no longer look for business associates amongst the other parents of students in Seoul University High School.

He thinks of Hyunseung and thinks of how Hyunseung has always been strong, even with neglectful parents and having to take care of a younger sister. He thinks of Hyunseung in all of his brave beauty and resilience. He thinks of Seoul Elite Academy of Young Athletes and he wonders if his mediocre tennis skills will allow him to qualify for the academy.

A/N: Instead of a normal follow-up chapter, I decided to write about the reason for Junhyung's transfer and give a bit of background to Junhyung's family as well. The family Junhyung has in this chapter is slightly different from the family that Hyunseung knew from when they were in middle school. Same people but with changes in them. I also unveiled the not-so-secretive secret of Junhyung's that I've been dropping a lot of hints for. I wonder if anyone guessed it right? I hope that everyone will comment and give me feedback on the story, because it encourages me to write more for All-Stars. I also have this posted on Tumblr, so I do get comments from the people over at Tumblr too. I received a really pleasant and detailed comment for Chapter 6 that got me into the mood to write this chapter, so there's that wonderful commentor to thank for such a speedy chapter 7.