it gets better.

the only thing permanent about true love is the pain you feel when it goes,
so turn your back on forever, run from the past as it explodes.
you’re a mirror image of a god, you’ll never know,
who created hell to show you how to be alone.

Sungyeol wanted to cry. He really really wanted to cry. But that would’ve been a bad move. He hadn’t been thinking properly, he hadn’t thought it through and holy Park Myungsin would kill him if he came back with another bruise. However, that was not why Sungyeol wanted to cry. For one moment Sungyeol had been afraid, and then it became anger, then he almost couldn’t recognise the last sane emotion he’d felt before it came rushing down to this. But he could still taste Desperation on his tongue.

And , maybe he was not as gay as he thought he had been. Or maybe, perhaps, Sungyeol was helplessly sappy and all romantic-comedy love stories and Myungsoo was far from that, and this, there was absolutely nothing ‘romantic-comedic’ about this. But desperate times called for desperate measures or whatever the correct phrase was, because, hey, there was no way Myungsoo would’ve listen to him when the little piece of [insert rude word] was so determined to sink head-first into his own jerk--face attitude.

Sungyeol’s heart throbbed, heavy and lethargic, but it did not hurt. Or at least, he hasn’t felt the pain yet — maybe it was stuck in traffic, maybe it was waiting for the elevator. Heartaches usually crept on him at night when everybody else was asleep and he couldn’t just go waking them up despite what Sunggyu had told him, ’any time, Sungyeol’. But he sometimes felt like Myungsin had forced Sunggyu to say ’any time, Sungyeol’, because that was such a Myungsin-thing to say. Besides, she was a girl and girls were not allowed to stay the night at their dorm, much less, hug Sungyeol while he cried to sleep. Since, apparently, everybody thought Sungyeol was a grown man when in fact he still felt like a child, and did they really think anything would happen? Why couldn’t anyone just trust him?

Most of all, did they seriously expect Sungyeol to go crying to Sunggyu and hug him to sleep?

And why was he thinking of Sunggyu while kissing Myungsoo, anyway?

But yeah, Sungyeol had just shoved Myungsoo against the door and kissed him senseless. Because, damn it, Myungsoo seriously needed to quit cursing so much; his words were grating Sungyeol’s ears like sandpaper. Then he was shoving his tongue down Myungsoo’s throat while the latter whined into his mouth and then he was kissing him back.

To hell with his distance, his safety and his conscience. He was already violating himself when he’d punched Myungsoo in the face. But it was not Sungyeol’s fault. If Myungsoo hadn’t been such a stubborn he wouldn’t have to resort to play ‘dirty’ like this. The sharp knuckles of his right hand were still throbbing from the impact. Or maybe that was just his conscience hurting where he last resorted to violence. Because, kids, violence will not solve your problems! Although, sometimes, violence could help you squeeze out the truth faster than anyone could say ‘peace’ (think WWII prisoners).

Myungsoo made him so unbelievably furious and all of this rage had to go somewhere! Damn it, Sungyeol absolutely hated dirty tricks, because yeah, he was too stupid to have figured this out sooner. But [insert rude word], Myungsoo needed to start listening to him already and then get the over himself, and maybe Sungyeol was an idiot, but his thought went like, ‘What better way did he have to make Myungsoo get over himself than by forcing him into something else?’

Sungyeol would never understand why people called it 'taste his own medicine' when that stuff was supposed to cure and heal. But all of this was destructive, it was not a remedy. Yeah, he realised he would never understand how the world worked. Or if it was working at all. Maybe it was broken? If he was to be honest, all past-infatuations and idiocy aside, he would say that the world must really be broken, because then, how else could all the bad guys get away?

The world must’ve fizzed out under the bull of people like Kim Myungsoo, Sungyeol thought.

And like the bastard who Myungsoo had told him about, the one who went after the girl, Sungyeol would bet on anything that the guy was having a swell time right now. That man was probably really rich and famous and maybe Sungyeol had even come across him before, maybe Sungyeol had even talked to him?! The thought that he had ever interacted with a killer (no matter how indirect) made him cringe.

The younger boy let out a sharp gasp, as Sungyeol sunk his teeth into his skin hard. Because, seriously, how painful could it be compared to all the Myungsoo had put him through? Sungyeol moved down to Myungsoo’s shoulder, pulling at his collar and bit down there too. Myungsoo hadn’t protested once. Sungyeol guessed, dirty tricks would work against the people who played them, but why was Sungyeol feeling dirty himself?

So, at that thought, he traced his lips back up to Myungsoo’s and really kissed him one last time; with the latter exhaling into his mouth, moan escaping. Sungyeol kissed him the way he had loved Myungsoo and how he had cared. The way everything that’d made up Sungyeol in the past had consisted of Myungsoo and only him.

Myungsoo was not kissing him back anymore. It was as if the latter had felt that their kisses had changed, and there were feelings, emotions and meaning in them now. So he left his lips parted, his hands around Sungyeol’s neck and he was tasting everything Sungyeol could have given him. Every single thing he once had to offer, if only Myungsoo had let him.

The kiss was slow and deep, and this was Sungyeol. This was how Sungyeol had always been even until now — he was not reckless or fearless and he sure was not as alive as Myungsoo was. If the younger was the sun, Sungyeol would’ve been the moon. Myungsoo might’ve been the end of Winter — hope of a Spring — and that would make Sungyeol the beginning of Autumn, when everything began to lose its colours. Myungsoo was bold, Sungyeol — cautious.

Kim Myungsoo would rise and Lee Sungyeol would fall; that was just how it worked.

They were so different and yet, Sungyeol would’ve given up everything for Myungsoo, all that he had been, all that Sungyeol ever amounted to — he would’ve changed for him if that was what Myungsoo wanted, just as long as Myungsoo could love him back even a little.

It was pathetic.

He had been so pathetic, he knew it now. Sungyeol understood: how stupid he had been, how naive, how easily manipulated — how hopelessly in love.

This was painful. It had been nothing but pain and Myungsoo still did not love him. Maybe he did, but never in the way that Sungyeol could ever understand. Not in the way that Sungyeol loved him. It could never be quite the same. They both wanted different things and Sungyeol did not have anything to offer anymore. Because he was tired. So. ing. Tired. This moment would be the first and the last, and every moment after this would be different. If Sungyeol did not have anything to give, then Myungsoo would not be able to take anything. It had never been enough. And he was running out.

Sungyeol realised, this must’ve been why he so wanted to cry.

He could never feel the Love he wanted. Not from The Person he wanted. And he knew that this moment was going to be over and when Sungyeol open his eyes, everything would be never be the same.

He’d make Myungsoo his responsibility (not Sunggyu’s, not Myungsin’s, not even Sungjong’s), and he was going get Myungsoo fixed. He was going to see it through no matter what. Because the pain needed to stop, things needed to start getting better like how he had been promised countless of times already!

So, if it meant he had to play dirty then he would, if that meant Sungyeol had to go through hell one last time, then so ing be it.

∞ ∞ ∞

expectations weigh on me
to satisfy these endless needs
i don’t care and i don’t know why
maybe i’m no good inside
all this wasted time
to see your ed up life
become mine

Dongwoo was having a swell time. He was being scrutinised by three people he’d known for more than four years. They must hate him.

“You idiot.” said Hoya. It was the best thing he could say without being rude or blowing his own head off. Dongwoo could see the rage brewing behind Hoya’s eyes while he struggled to keep it under control.

Woohyun narrowed his own eyes into slits. It wouldn’t be a surprise if he began shooting laser beams. Dongwoo fidgeted. He could’ve left but he was too sleepy and tired. He’d just let them stare. What was done was done. What was the point of this?

“Did you know what was going on with Sungyeol too?” Woohyun spat. “Were you trying to kill him as well?”

Dongwoo blinked. What the .

“No?” he answered it like it was a question. He tried again. “No. No, I never tried to kill Sungyeol.”

…that came out weird.

“Why not? Was he not depressed enough for your taste?” The main vocalist pushed forward from behind Hoya. Sungjong was at the side hissing something like ‘Woohyun hyung!’ “Do you have a criteria for picking out your victims? Or do you just pluck them off the street at random?”

Dongwoo stared. And stared. Because he wasn’t going to even answer that.

“Dude. I’m not a serial killer.” he pointed out instead.

“Could’ve fooled me.”

Then they turned quiet for a while after Woohyun’s remark. Silence was making him uncomfortable. What were they thinking now?

Hoya sighed, “I would never understand how Myungsin could have forgiven you.”

Dongwoo looked away. There was a lump in his throat. It made breathing kind of difficult.

“Look, here. You’ve manipulated her brother,” Hoya listed off his fingers. “You grew out of being his best friend and yet you still kept him around. For what? You turned into an . You’ve pressured him to change with you. You beat him up for fun—”

“Wait, how did you know I beat him for fun?” Dongwoo interrupted.

Hoya stiffened, “So you did beat him up for fun.”

Oh. It was a trick.

Because, hey, Hoya couldn’t have known if Myungsin hadn’t told him. But Myungsin couldn’t have known, could she? She was still pretty young back then… Dongwoo vaguely recalled a hazy image of another kid who always followed her around like a shadow.

And Dongwoo only remembered because the kid had threatened to kill him once, years after, when he’d tracked Myungsin down. Gods, that kid was really her shadow. He wondered where the kid was now. Dongwoo hoped he’d found something else to obsess himself with. Sometimes though, Dongwoo wondered if the kid would remember him on TV. If he did, he hadn’t said anything.

Occasionally, Dongwoo would try to recall what he looked like. Only because the kid had been so whipped that it showed on his face. For some odd reason, Dongwoo would always come back to Myungsoo’s yearbook photos. The kid had Myungsoo’s type of face. The one that didn’t change much over the years. The kid’s hair was really big, too, and he wasn’t exactly friendly.

Well, he just hoped he’d gotten over it. Dongwoo didn’t want that kid, all grown up, popping out of nowhere just to punch him, again, now that Myungsin was not exactly fine. People would do anything for the ones they love, he guessed. So he wouldn’t be surprised if, by some magically messed up fate, the guy appeared out of the shadows just to beat Dongwoo up for real this time.

∞ ∞ ∞

He hated everything. There was not one redeemable thing in his life. Why did he have to do this? Sungyeol felt like a balloon waiting to pop. A bomb waiting to blow. A kettle brewing over fire, waiting to screech like a damn banshee. Just one little trigger was all he needed.

It was Myungsoo, the cause of it all, who handed him his very own firearm.

Sungyeol threaded his fingers into Myungsoo’s hair and yanked it so hard that his head thudded against the door. A pained hiss coiled out from between his teeth.

“You are going to listen to me, and you’re going to listen well.” Sungyeol warned coldly, voice hard, low and threatening. “You will do as I say or I am going to end you, Kim Myungsoo. Got it?”

Myungsoo panted, eyes half-lidded, staring back as Sungyeol’s grasp tightened into Myungsoo’s hair.

He yanked to remind him who had the upper hand. The younger winced.

Sungyeol snarled, teeth gritted and jaw tensed, “Got it?”

It took Myungsoo a few more seconds to get his vision to focus on Sungyeol from this angle, head forced upwards just slightly.

“Yeah,” stammered Myungsoo, chest heaving, breath still ragged. “…yeah.”

Sungyeol’s mouth twitched. Figured it’d work more or less, he thought bitterly. Keeping his gaze hard and sharp, his broken lips found Myungsoo’s swollen ones. Only for a bit. Just to remind him of their agreement.

His thumb traced the skin under the hem of Myungsoo’s shirt. It was a past promise. A reminder of what Myungsoo could have had. Sungyeol slid the cropped photo he’d found earlier into Myungsoo’s back pocket. Then he pulled away, face void of emotions.

“Good. Now, come on.” Sungyeol smiled with no warmth, “We have lots of broken things to fix.”

∞ ∞ ∞

fake flowers begin to wilt in this house my heart had built
to keep me far away from us, i know i’m not brave enough
keep me far away from us, i’ll never be brave enough
all this wasted time, to see your ed up life
become mine…

The interrogation went on for at least another thirty minutes. Most of the questions were beginning to shoot at Dongwoo’s morals. Did you regret it? Did you care at all? What were you thinking? Are you seriously blind? Do you even know how to feel guilty? How do you sleep at night?

“Guys…” Dongwoo sighed. He wanted to answer them all but really, he didn’t know the correct answer himself. He only knew what he should feel and what he should say, but seriously, what was the point?

Bickering sounded from the other end of the echo-y hallway. The whiteness was starting to blind him for real. He squinted over Sungjong’s head, which was not easy, mind you. The others seemed to notice too as they turned around to stare at the vending machine. Then there were noises that sounded like footsteps.

Two figures turned the corner and came into view. Myungsoo and Sungyeol. Holy— wait.

Sungyeol was dragging Myungsoo by the hood of his stinky jacket, muttering something into Myungsoo’s ear as the younger man scowled as if he didn’t appreciate the proximity — but, even to Dongwoo, that was bull because the guy unconsciously leaned a tad bit closer.

Myungsoo began grumbling too, something only Sungyeol could hear, and then elbowed his hyung in the stomach. Sungyeol winced, purposely stepped on Myungsoo’s left foot, before grabbing him again by the scruff of his shirt, both suffocating and dragging the younger closer to their direction.

“What the hell are they doing?” Woohyun mumbled under his breath. Hoya just stared as they crept closer. Sungjong was rigidly still as if he’d seen a ghost, eyes wide.

Then when they came within earshot, Myungsoo roughly pushed Sungyeol away. Sungjong stiffened, and made a move like he was going to run to them. But then he froze half way. So it just looked like he twitched. Dongwoo thought it was cute.

"Fine. I already said fine." Myungsoo whined in his nasal voice. "I'm gonna do it, geez. I can walk on my own."

“Okay then,” Sungyeol smiled, but it seemed off. He stepped away from Myungsoo indicatively, depriving him of the warmth. The younger man looked torn. “Go on.”

Myungsoo shot the older man a glare before turning towards the four of them. Woohyun made an unconscious move towards Myungsin’s room. Like he was going to guard it or run inside to hide, Dongwoo couldn’t tell. Hoya just kept eyeing the two suspiciously. Sungjong looked paler than before. It made Dongwoo want to reach out and offer him a chocolate bar.

Damn maknaes. He used to give Jungshin chocolate bars too. Even bought him basketfuls on every Valentine's day, just because he could.

“Why? Do you need moral support?” asked Sungyeol. Dongwoo’s gaze snapped up to him in surprise.

Sungyeol, however, was watching Myungsoo with a curious tilt of his head, hands stuffed in his jeans pockets. He looked kind of cool, Dongwoo thought. His hair all tousled like he’d been running against the wind, his broken lip made him look like he might own a motorbike.

Myungsoo had been glancing back at Sungyeol after only taking a few steps. He rolled his eyes, turned around, face oddly flushed, and began making his way towards them. Sungyeol followed quietly, five steps behind.

Myungsoo exhaled when he came face to face with Hoya, who stood in front of them like a protective barrier. Kind of funny. Woohyun eyed him suspiciously from Sungjong’s side, one arm resting on the boy’s shoulder, despite the height different. When did he get here?

The visual rocked on his feet, wiggled his jaw experimentally as if he’d just been hit in the face, eyed them with this dark expression. What was new?

“Sungyeol?” Myungsoo called over his shoulder, in this strangely innocent tone, at Sungyeol who was actually right behind him. “There's something I’ve been wanting to do, so can I do it before I apologise for my… 'absolutely unacceptable' teamwork?”

He bunny quoted. Sungyeol pressed his lips together like he was thinking, but Dongwoo knew the answer would be ‘no’.

“I probably will have to apologise for it anyway. It won’t take long.” whined Myungsoo. Woohyun and Hoya arched their eyebrows at the same time. Hoya glanced at Woohyun as if they were amidst a telepathic discussion. Something like, ‘Did he just whine?’ and ‘Dude, who cares? He’s gonna apologise!’

“Fine.” decided Sungyeol, with an unamused look. Like he wasn’t pleased at all with the delay.

Myungsoo turned towards them and smirked. Smirked. And Dongwoo was so sure he was smirking at him. He heard Woohyun gulp. The visual walked passed Hoya and Woohyun, who followed his moves like a hawk.

He stopped right in front of Sungjong, who looked defeated. Myungsoo smiled casually at the younger before he turned towards Dongwoo and punched him in the eye.

not even sorry.
(Both songs are from Jungshin's favourite band: Coma Cinema)