❋ ❋ ❋

Yonsei Hospital

INTER OFFICE MEMORANDUM

 Record Date: ------

 FROM: Dr. ---

SUBJECT: Kyungsoo Do

 Do Kyungsoo was seen by me on (date) following my evaluation which extended over three hours, I referred him to Yonsei Hospital for admission. My decision was based on:

 1. The chaotic unplanned life of the patient at present with progressive decompensation and reversal of sleep cycle.

2. Severe depression and hopelessness and suicidal ideas.

 3. History of suicidal attempts.

 4. No therapy and no plan at present, emersion in fantasy, progressive withdrawal and isolation. The patient had been seen in psychotherapy by Dr. (censored). At no time did I have him in therapy, and the patient knew that I was not a potential therapist.

“You have to sign them Mr. Do. You’re over 18, this is your decision.”

“But I didn’t try to kill myself. I had a headache.”

“That’s the kind of things you talk about in therapy sweet pea, not by a reception desk. Now come on, honey it’s this or a court order.”

There’s a multitude of papers lain out before him, blank pages filled with printed zigy-zags and crisy-crosses which he carelessly marks with his signature, one after the other.

He’s far too tired to comprehend that these fuzzy shapes and blotches of black are actually words, let alone piece together an answer as to why he’s currently standing in the front desk of Yonsei, signing away his freedom.

Someone had mentioned to him that they had plenty of soft and comfortable beds to spare around this place, which to Kyungsoo, was information enough to keep his weary hands going, mechanically spelling out his name, D-o K-y-u-n-g-s-o-o in black ink and terrible penmanship.

Only about an hour and a half ago he was sitting in a doctor’s office, a doctor he had never seen nor spoken to in a day of his life, openly talking about the incident when he had downed 50 aspirins with a glass of whiskey. It took the doctor no more than  3 hours of questioning to come to a final decision of sending Kyungsoo off to Yonsei, just 30 minutes away by taxi.

“You need a rest” were the fat guy’s last words and as tired as he was, all Kyungsoo could respond with was a barely audible “Yeah.”

He didn’t even care to wonder why his luggage was already packed nor why his father had disappeared after dropping him off with a pained expression and endless remember I love you-s.

“This way sweet pea” the old nurse says after snatching the papers out of his hold and stuffing them into a file cabinet. Her eyes are on him when she wedges the key into one of her coat’s pockets as if to mock his lost freedom, but Kyungsoo is too busy staring at the pimple she sports on her chin. He opens his mouth to inform her, then closes it again, deciding against it.

There are steel doors at the end of the hall to his left where the old nurse leads him too. When he gets close enough, two staffs come up to him and strip him off his coat, take away his phone, his belt, his shoelaces, his house keys, his lighter, and just all the other he keeps in his pockets. They leave the pack of French cigarettes though, and Kyungsoo questions them with his eyes.

“The nurse’ll light ‘em up for ya. One of the few pleasures we allow our patients.” Says the one with too many bobby pins in her hair. He wrinkles his nose at that, finding it ironic how it’s a policy for them to take away anything with violent images but leave the one thing that actually kills.

For the most part of his life he’s grown up ridiculing the people who have actually thought that mental hospitals were comparable to prisons, with patients strapped into strait jackets, barefoot, in a barren room, pixie cut hair, chipped nails and all. Back when his mother was still alive he vividly remembers having pizza deliveries buzzed through her ward while they both read through whatever book he brought along with him, usually a new one each week. It was very much homey, if one ignored the occasional panicked screams that erupted from the hallways whenever a patient had some sort of breakdown.

With these thoughts clouding his mind he opens his mouth to speak, but the only thing that seems to come out is a question of where the beds are despite him knowing that he’s not really going to get a proper answer.

The old nurse just walks ahead of him, past the steel doors and into a large and spacious hall that ends with an even larger rotunda. When Kyungsoo eyes his surroundings the hair on his skin stands on its ends. He feels watched.

“Alright, this is the art room-” the old nurse begins, pointing out the where-s and when-s, the what-s and who-s, the do-s and don’t-s, the basic things she’s too obviously tired of repeating time and time again.

It doesn’t help that Kyungsoo is hardly even paying any attention, eyes too distracted by the rooms lined to his left in which some doors lay askew and some are left looking like they’ve been closed for days.

Curious eyes meet his own, most of the occupants popping their heads into view upon hearing the familiar and unpleasant voice of the old nurse breezing past. Among those he sees, two come across as distinct: the thin framed boy with an intense glare and the sweet-looking one with a face half-burnt. Kyungsoo blatantly ignores the shy wave that is thrown his way by the burnt boy, finding that crooked smile too cheery for his own liking.

From the few times he tunes in to the free tour he’s given, he picks up only what he needs to know.

Rooms to the left are for Lunatics while the ones to the right are for staffs. The lavatory, the shower room, the conference room, the living room, and the phone booth all fall on the right, as though the staff claimed oversight of even their most private acts. And as if to put emphasis, there’s a nurse’s office that lies right at the center of it all, directly across from the check-in board where each of the patients names are written down like an attendance sheet.

Apparently the Lunatics were ranked from being restricted to being on grounds, representing the sort of privilege you get in leaving the ward. The gradations were Byzantine.  Either you can’t leave, you get a babysitter, or you’re free to wander. Beside Kyungsoo’s freshly written name, he starts off as an R.

His final stop is his own room. It looks completely normal, save for the barricaded windows and the whitewashed everything. It’s got two dressers, two shelves, two desks, two beds, and a squinty eyed boy comfortably lounging on one of them.

“This is Baekhyun, your roommate, a very good one at that.” The old nurse says and it earns her a gratified bow from the boy who responds with a thank you and calls her by the name of Val, which Kyungsoo thinks does not suit her at all.

He gives a brief, tight lipped smile to his said roommate before shuffling towards his own bed, promptly proceeding to toe his shoes off and let his body sink down onto the mattress, not really caring to unpack his luggage or at least give a proper introduction. His own body seems to be begging him for sleep, limbs going limp and eyes feeling droopy.

But at least the bed is just like they said it would be, soft and comfortable.

“I’m only here for a rest.” He tells this Baekhyun guy, who had merely gone back to browsing through what seemed to be a children’s book the minute Val had left the room. Fatigue overcomes Kyungsoo as he feels himself slowly being pulled into another one of his usually dreamless sleeps and he almost doesn’t catch the other’s response.

“Oh, That’s what I said too.”

He dreams of butchered meat that afternoon.

❋

It took him a few seconds of startled screaming and jostling to realize that the room wasn’t a dark pit swallowing him into nothingness and that it was just, in fact, night time. He wakes up sweat drenched, his fingers clawing at the bedsheets and his breathing ragged and heavy.

Baekhyun isn’t in his bed. It’s been neatly tidied up with his books stacked properly on the shelf making it seem as though Kyungsoo’s been alone in this room from the very start. The idea is unsettling to him, the possibility of being delusional flashing across his mind and making him wonder whether someone’s condition could get that worse that fast. 

He stands up and staggers forward a bit before exiting the room, knowing all too well that being alone in dark places doesn’t give him the most encouraging thoughts. Outside the hall is dimly lit which makes it easy for him spot the flickering light at the end where he could see a bunch of patients gathered around the TV room.

Val had told him something about that room being their favorite. She never mentions why but he figures it’s because it’s located to the left, on the crazy side.

“You shouldn’t scream that loud, the nurses will think you’re having a fit.”

Baekhyun is the first to notice Kyungsoo enter, throwing him a brief glance before turning his attention back towards the Television.

Of the faces that surround him, Kyungsoo could only recognize one and it’s that of the boy he had seen in the hallway earlier during the day, the one who had a burnt face. He wonders for a brief moment, if the poor thing is even aware of how damaged his face actually is. He couldn’t imagine how it’s possible for someone having skin looking that red and raw to smile that brightly. The thought troubles him so much that he forgets to smile back. Not that he would have.

“Hello, would you like to come watch TV with us?” he speaks, and at least his voice matches his smile, sweet and innocent.

But despite this, Kyungsoo shakes his head in polite refusal, not really intending to make any friends nor create any ties. He’s just here for a rest after all.

A few seconds of awkward silence go by before Baekhyun stands up and stretches, emitting some kind of garbled noise as he does so, making Kyungsoo grimace at his lack of manners. The way he scratches his hind while walking towards their shared room isn’t all that attractive either. “Come on,” he says just as he brushes past the smaller boy’s shoulder “you’ll need to grab your pills from the nurse’s office since you were knocked out when they called you.”

“Pills? Pills for?” Kyungsoo trots behind, stopping when they arrive in front of the glass windows, where a little lady with a white hat seems like she’s about five seconds away from dozing off.

“Benzodiazepines. They’re just sleeping pills.”

“But I don’t have a problem sleeping. I was quick to drift off just this afternoon.”

Baekhyun knocks three times, startling the sleep induced nurse who wakes with a jolt. He throws her an apologetic smile before muttering something under his breath, the nurse picking up immediately and disappearing to the back in order to grab, what Kyungsoo suspects, are his ‘pills’. Baekhyun steps aside, signalling the smaller boy to step forward and take whatever it is that she’d come back with.

“Don’t feel special, They give it to all of us. It will help stop the screaming.”

Kyungsoo silences at that, guiltily stretching his palm out once the nurse arrives back with two tablets and a glass of water. Take them here, she tells him, and when he does as he’s told he couldn’t help but feel a little bit like a child being told to eat his vegetables.

“It’s off to bed with you two then” she dismisses. Baekhyun doesn’t protest at the order and promptly ushers Kyungsoo back to their room. Before he makes it past their door his eyes skim over to the room next to theirs, the door laying slightly ajar so that he could catch a glimpse of a thin and tall looking boy who doesn’t seem to like being caught watching, as proven by the way he glares menacingly before slaming his door shut in Kyungsoo’s face.

The clueless newbie could only turn to his roommate in confusion.

“What’s his problem?” He questions, his bed sinking on the edge once he takes a seat on it, Baekhyun following suit on his own bed.

“That’s Oh Sehun.” The other begins, “Anorexic as . And a laxative junkie too, trades his sleeping pills for them whenever he gains so much as a pound over 30. He believes it’s the perfect weight.”

“And what about the boy in the TV room? What happened to him?”

Baekhyun slides down and rests his head on his pillow. “Lu Han. His is a tragic story. When he was 20, his mother gave away his puppy for adoption because he began showing symptoms of dog allergies. He cried and he cried, picking up a gasoline container and pouring it all over himself. Then he lit a match. Burnt his whole house too.”

Kyungsoo swallows, the mental image he conjures up in his mind a bit too gruesome. He watches as Baekhyun slips a cold hand underneath his cheek to keep it warm, closing his eyes and probably feeling his own pills kick into effect. Kyungsoo falls silent, picking at the hem of his shirt, sitting still, and feeling a bit nauseous. Baekhyun’s breathing evens out and he suspects that the other has fallen fast asleep.

“What about you?” He whispers, to no one in particular “Why are you here?”

 It’s a question he addresses to the air, giving it permission to let the words be carried away by the breeze in hopes that someone would hear and feel it whisper against their ear, and maybe find him an answer. What about him? Why was he here?

Surprisingly, there’s a faint voice that responds and for a moment Kyungsoo thinks he’s definitely gone mental, because here the wind is answering him. Much to his relief, it isn’t the wind, it’s just Baekhyun, mumbling in his sleep.

“I’m a pathological liar” He says.

And Kyungsoo finds himself recalling their entire conversation, trying to make out the lies from the truths.

❋

It’s been three days and as far as Kyungsoo’s concerned, Luhan hadn’t burnt down his entire house, and Sehun weighed 75 pounds, not 30.

He learns about their names and records, one by one.

Chanyeol is the patient who was locked in the isolation room on the day Kyungsoo was signed in. They met the morning after, when the smaller had woken up to the sound of his louder than necessary voice echoing throughout the hall, all the way from the TV room, fascinating the other patients with stories of his father’s exploits as a CIA agent, including his associations with notorious figures. Baekhyun is the one who points out that they’re all lies, which Kyungsoo finds ironic. He learns that the two are in a romantic relationship, in which Baekhyun is the only living body who could calm Chanyeol down during his frequent violent outbursts. Without him it apparently requires several orderlies to subdue the giant.

 Luhan, as we already know, is the disfigured patient. When he was 20, He poured gasoline over his face and upper body and set himself aflame because his mother had given away his puppy. But it doesn’t seem to bother him as much, since he appears to be at peace, even cheerful. Kyungsoo hopes that the sweet boy doesn’t realize that, while all the other patients are merely affected by sickness, he is the only one trapped forever by the consequences.

Then there’s Sehun, the seasonal one. He’s only here from Thanksgiving to Christmas each year. Somehow, the nurses manage to release him weighing at least ten pounds heavier, although he always comes back weighing ten pounds less. He doesn’t like people entering his room and is often seen wearing oversized hospital gowns. A frequent line that slips his mouth is “I want my ing clothes!” to which none of the staff pay any mind to. Usually they appear by his room’s doorstep after he begrudgingly surrenders himself to cafeteria food.

As for Kyungsoo, they had diagnosed him with something called borderline personality. He had no idea what that meant and apparently neither did any of the other patients.

“Borderline of what? So are you like, borderline madcap?” Sehun had asked the other afternoon, his face scrunched up in a permanent scowl.

Kyungsoo did not know what he was bordering either.

He just knew that he was not depressed. He didn’t want to kill himself, not even that night he had lined fifty aspirins on top of his dresser. He only wanted to kill that part of him who was constantly pulled into depressive episodes.

In fact, after he downed them all, he automatically remembered that he had a chore to do, that he had to go to the butcher’s to pick up some pork for dinner.

Kyungsoo had only made it to the shop’s front doors before his vision doubled and he out. After that he vaguely recalls having his stomach pumped in the hospital. Oddly enough, he now associates meat with suicide, thus explaining his sudden commitment to vegetarianism.

It’s a constant debate, his condition, a constant debate with weak motives. He misses the bus, why not kill himself? He gets complimented by a stranger, well maybe now’s not the time to die. He makes a stupid remark, might as well end things.

He feels like he’s the rope in a game of tug of war, being stretched and pulled and released and captured. It’s only a matter of time before he completely topples over to one side.

Maybe that’s why he’s borderline.

❋

Kyungsoo meets the last patient on the fourth day of his stay. His name is Jongin.

He’s heard of this one before, a sociopath with a lean and tanned body, along with a face coveted by many of the patients and staffs of the ward. This boy is like the spoiled prince, or so they say, his model-like physique a complete cover-up of his stuck-up attitude. But that’s only according to the nurses, Baekhyun and the rest beg to differ. He’s good company is all they say.  

The circumstances of their first meeting don’t exactly leave Kyungsoo a good impression.

It happens when he’s awakened one morning by the faint sound of someone swearing (at least, he thinks it’s swearing, or something in the lines of it. Is pot a word?) and the sight of Baekhyun peeking outside their barricaded window, mumbling something about someone being ‘back’ from his two week disappearance. Before Kyungsoo could even utter a word the other is already sprinting out the door, leaving the smaller boy to wake himself up and see what all the commotion is about.  

Imploring eyes pry and eager ears eavesdrop from both sides of the hall as the orderlies (along with two cops) bring in the legendary Kim Jongin who is bound by handcuffs, smelling of cigarettes and pot.

He’s dirty looking. Hair flying in all directions, cheeks hollow, clothes rumpled and soiled. There’s a playful smirk on his pale lips and a crazed glint in his hazel eyes that gives him a look akin to something both dangerous and charming.

The Jongin kid shrugs off his jacket nonchalantly after being released from his cuffs, tossing it towards an unfortunate nurse who gets hit square on the face.  He proceeds with emptying his pockets and taking off what needs to be taken off as though it were already a routinely thing for him to do. It probably was, Kyungsoo thinks.

The way he winks and calls each person by their name makes Kyungsoo wonder how long he’s actually been here, to be able to know the people like the back of his own hand like that, to want to leave that desperately. He’s heard of Jongin being notorious with the escapes, always managing to leave the ward for a day or two before he’s caught by the police at some shabby old club or perhaps behind a y alley.

Two weeks is probably the longest he’s been gone, and you could tell by the way police’s eyebrow slightly twitches that, for once, they felt a bit panicked.

“Hey Torch,” Jongin speaks out, eyes fixed on a shy Luhan who is half hidden behind his door. “You been a good boy?”

“Have you?” The shy boy daringly responds with a hint of hesitation that has the other growling and snapping his teeth playfully as a response.

“Cut the crap Jongin” Baekhyun pitches in, returning the smirk that Jongin flashes.

“Missed me didn’t you, talk?”

The bickering continues like this, with constant exchanges of snarky comments that no one seems to take offense in. He’s well liked, this Jongin boy, Kyungsoo observes, silently leaning against the doorframe being the wallflower that his is.

Jongin finally empties his pockets, raising both his fists up in the air before opening his palms and letting crumpled candy wrappers fall to the floor with a gleeful cheer. “It’s good to be home!” he says, a bit of spit spraying onto the officer’s face whose expression transforms quickly from mildly annoyed to enraged. Jongin’s grin only grows wider.

“Do you know how much of a handful you are?” Val begins, looking very small and angry standing in front of the tanned boy like that, with one hand to her hip and the other pinching the bridge of her nose. She looks more stressed than she’s ever looked for the past four days of Kyungsoo’s stay, and to say that is a pretty big deal, considering the fact that’s been walking around wearing a frown on her face and wrinkles on her forehead 85% of the time.

But as per usual, Jongin gives zero s about the lecture he’s currently being given, his bored eyes wandering around the room until they land on Kyungsoo.  

They stand frozen like that, for a good minute or two. Jongin’s wild and intense gaze locked on Kyungsoo’s sad and dull one.

And then suddenly the former’s sneer is wiped clean off his face, an aura of seriousness descending upon the room as though Kyungsoo’s mere presence flipped some sort of trigger. Some of the patients grow tense. The precarious glint in Jongin’s eyes something they recognize, something they’ve only ever seen once or twice before but apparently it’s enough times for them to know that’s it’s a look they fear. Even Baekhyun’s lanky boyfriend, who knows more about violent fits more than any of them do, takes a cautious step back. It’s quite clear who the alpha is around this place.

“Who’s the new guy?” Jongin asks to no one in particular, cutting off Val’s reprimands (she’s not too happy about it) and letting the room fall silent. All eyes are now on Kyungsoo, said boy holding his breath and feeling a bit uncomfortable with the spotlight unexpectedly shone on him.

“Jongin don’t-“

“I’m asking a question. Who’s your new roommate Baekkie?”

Baekhyun flinches at the threatening tone. Some of the staff exchange knowing looks, a few subtly move closer, taking Jongin gently by the wrist and arm, whispering words that are supposedly meant to calm him down.

That doesn’t happen though, because the tanned boy is quick to shrug their hands off harshly and take long and big strides towards Kyungsoo who is now beginning to look a little bit terrified.

With each step forward Jongin takes, he steps backwards, retreating into his and Baekhyun’s shared room while watching the other shut and lock the door before any of the now panicking staff get to them. Hands are pounding against it and names are being shouted from the other side but Jongin pays no mind, proceeding to corner the poor newcomer.

Kyungsoo shuts his eyes and covers his ears, willing the noise to go away. The moment his back hits the wall is also the moment Jongin stops, standing mere centimetres away front of him, hands fisted and gaze unwavering.

“Who the are you and why is your all over Taemin’s bed?!”

Taemin?

Kyungsoo’s eyes flicker back and forth from the bed to Jongin the bed to Jongin the bed to Jongin-

“Who are you? Why is your on his bed?!”

“I don’t know!” The smaller begins shouting. No matter how hard or loud Jongin demands for an answer, all that leaves his lips is the same phrase, over and over again. Because what else was there to say? He didn’t know, he didn’t know what was wrong with himself, he didn’t know why he was in a mental institution, and he certainly didn’t know what this boy was talking about.

Anxiety makes his world slow down. Suddenly he notices the little things, the vein protruding from Jongin’s neck, the dark circles underneath his eyes, the faded lilac color of his hair, the way his rough and calloused hands feel gripped tightly against his arms, shaking him. It happens in slow motion, so slowly that by the time the door busts open to reveal a snooping crowd gathered behind an infuriated Val, Kyungsoo’s eyes sting with tears because he’s already begun imagining what Jongin’s hands would feel like around his neck instead. As we’ve said, It’s a constant debate, his condition, a constant debate with weak motives. He upsets the ward kinka? guess he might as well kill himself.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?!” Val exclaims before she could even kick the door open completely. The boy addressed whips his head in her direction so sharply that Kyungsoo thinks he hears his neck snap.

“Where’s Taemin Val, Where is he.”

“You’ve been gone far too many times Jongin and a lot of goes down while you’re not around.”

Silence. There’s an unsaid conversation that hangs in the air between Jongin and the old nurse. Kyungsoo feels his body tremble when the other’s hands slide off his arm and instinctively he retreats backwards, even if he couldn’t really go anymore backwards than where he already is, considering the fact that he’s completely pressed against the wall. He does it anyway, his wide and frightened eyes darting towards the nurse who comes rushing to his assistance.

“How’d he do it Val?” Are the next words that leave Jongin’s lips, two staffs coming to his aid as well, although Kyungsoo doubts it’s for assistance. They hold the tanned boy’s wrists to his back, grabbing his arms and his ankles too, the minute he begins fighting back, kicking and jerking to no avail.

How’d he do it? How’d he do it Valerie?! You’re all weak, you’re all victims- he continues to shout while struggling against the five- no six- nurses and staffs who try to drag him out of the room. Apparently, by the looks on their faces, Val along with some of the other patients seem to know what he’s talking about. Though sadly, to Kyungsoo it’s all nonsense.

The nurse asks Kyungsoo to sit down, pushing away his hands which he subconsciously latches onto his neck. It takes him a while to notice that Baekhyun is also by his side, rubbing his back and eventually pulling him against his chest to rock him back and forth in a soothing manner that fortunately helps the other relax for the first couple of minutes that he does it.

It takes a few more moments of listening to his roommate’s lullabies and downing a couple of pills given to him by the nurse for Kyungsoo to begin calming, his breathing returning to a normal rate and his trembling decreasing to mere shivers.

All the while he listens to the sound of Jongin’s voice, his muffled pleads from down the hall just going No, no no please Val please, No not that not that no please on repeat.

“He’s going in the quiet room.” Luhan pipes, making the two boys turn their heads to where he hovers by the door. He’s the only one who ever calls the isolation room as such. A child at heart he is, after all, 20 years old is no age to cry and burn yourself over a puppy.

“What did I do?” Kyungsoo asks, voice croaked and eyes still a little watery.

“Nothing.” Baekhyun’s answer comes with a reassuring smile.

“He looked really mad at me.”

“It’s just Jongin, he’ll go back to being a tease when he comes out, don’t worry.”

“Who’s Taemin?”

“Baekhyun’s old roommate.” Someone says matter-of-factly. Another voice adds into their conversation once a particularly bored looking Sehun casually strides into their room uninvited, hands in his pockets and chin held high, looking as cocky as Baekhyun describes him to be

“Jongin’s best friend. Or buddy, for lack of a better term.” He gives Kyungsoo a once over, mildly looking concerned, but mostly looking judgemental “You okay?”

“I’m fine…” Kyungsoo just nods, brows furrowed and lips pursed. “What uhm, what happened to him? Taemin?”

A look crosses the other three’s faces and they eye each other as if to debate on who tells. Of course, it’s no surprise that Luhan is the one to give in to the pressure.

“Well uhm, h-he was sad to watch Jongin l-leave. So on his…on his f-first attempt, Taemin uhm, he ki- he kill- killed himself.”

“…here?” Kyungsoo blinks, takes a moment to digest. “How, I mean, how? There’s nothing to do the job.”

“He hung himself with a volleyball net.” Sehun mutters, shrugging his shoulders as if it wasn’t on his list of concerns. Maybe it wasn’t. “Selfish thing to do if you’d ask me, now we never get to play volleyball, or anything that involves a net for that matter.”

“It’s the same thing everytime he comes back. He goes on autopilot, looks for Taemin and throws a fit when it dawns on him that he’s gone.” Baekhyun shakes his head ruefully “usually he’d sleep in this bed for the next couple of days but I don’t think he’s going to be able to do that for once, now that you’re here.”

“There hasn’t been any occupants after Taemin?”

“Nope” he pops the ‘p’ for emphasis.

Kyungsoo mulls over the possible consequences of being the first replacement for a good minute or two before voicing out another question he’s been wanting to ask. “Well what did he mean by us being…weak? ‘victims’?”

“Jongin’s a sociopath Kyungsoo, as you already know. He thinks those who have buttons to be pressed, those who snap and give in to urges of killing themselves, are people who are weak.”

“” Sehun butts in, Luhan looks to him scandalized, his mouth forming an ‘o’.

Kyungsoo could only think of the instance just minutes ago when he had unconsciously fantasized about strangling himself. He probably had many ‘buttons’, as Jongin would put them. So many triggers, small reasons he’s all too nearly pressed to conclude that his life is not worth living.

He’ll never know what it’s like to be Taemin, but he knows what it’s like to want to die. How it hurts to smile. How you try to fit in but you can’t. You hurt yourself on the outside to try to kill the thing on the inside.

Sometimes Kyungsoo tells his therapist, the ward doctor, the nurses, and the other patients that he doesn’t understand his disease, that he’s still wondering why he’s here and what he’s done to get here.

But other times he understands it clearly.

He understands it, curls up with it, embraces it, and never lets it out.

He doesn’t hear Jongin’s voice until the next day, and this time he makes sure to keep his distance.

❋

On Wednesdays and Thursdays, Kyungsoo goes for a Melvin.

It’s code for his weekly therapy visits and Melvin is this bald, bearded fat man, who sits behind a desk in the upstairs office, known for his scrutinizing gaze and his obnoxious habit of loud knuckle cracking.

To many of the patients in Yonsei, his constant interrogations are forgivable, it’s what therapists do after all. They exist to ask you too many questions and create too many complications to a diagnosis as simple as a sad human being.

But what they don’t seem to find amusing is the way he does it.

Chanyeol, for example, hates the way Melvin talks to him. He does it too slowly, too cautiously, as though the tall boy were some beast not to be enraged. Metaphorically that may be true, but the boy begrudgingly points out a few things one afternoon in the cafeteria.

“It’s not like I don’t know I got temper.” He had said, spitting out grains of rice in the process. “But he could at least try not to put his hands up in surrender everytime I so much as breathe in his direction. He does it everytime he thinks I’m getting pissed off but honestly that is what’s pissing me off! Just ask me the ing questions, I’m aware this is therapy and I’m aware they need to be answered!”

Everyone but Kyungsoo seemed to share the same sentiments. The newcomer didn’t know what to think of this Dr. Melvin person, at least not until he was called for his first session on a Thursday.

It was an awkward 30 minutes for him, picking at the armrest of the uncomfortable couch Melvin had asked him to lie on while listening to the man’s repeated why?-s and how did you feel about that?-s.

Within those 30 minutes he was instantly able to relate to Chanyeol’s words. Melvin talked slow to him too, but a different kind of slow. Not precautious, just a bit too sympathetic. His expression was this exaggerated version of worried and understanding that Kyungsoo only found it extremely unnerving.  

He was doing a very bad job at being a therapist.

Kyungsoo’s sessions would always end the same way, with the question “Why did you swallow those fifty aspirins?” followed by his unchanging answer “I had a headache.”

Something tells him that it’s not the answer Melvin wants to hear by the way he always dismisses him with a disappointed shake of his head and a furious scribble onto his notepad.

No matter how prim and proper Kyungsoo acts inside that office, his ticket to freedom doesn’t feel any closer than it was when they first took it away, he feels like he’s not making any progress at all.

❋

YONSEI HOSPITAL

DO, Kyungsoo

--- (date)

 ABSTRACT APPLICATION: Patient withdrew to his room, ate very little, did not

work or study and contemplated jumping into the river. He signed the voluntary

application fully realising the nature of his act.

Signed Director (censored)

As per usual a nurse comes by the TV room in the afternoon to distribute medications. Today, it’s the pretty young one with blonde hair and long lashes. She walks straight for the sofa, where a tanned boy lounges lazily.

“Jongin?”

“Yep”

She approaches him with outstretched hands, one holding two pills and the other a cup of water. Jongin doesn’t even bother sit up nor put down the hand puppet he’s playing with, merely opening his mouth in silent demand, to which the petite nurse obliges to, popping the little capsules into his mouth albeit with a slight blush on her cheeks.

No water is needed as he swallows the pills down and reopens his mouth wide knowing the standard protocol. “Aaaaa” he says, sticking his tongue out and reassuring her that the pills have been consumed.

She says thank you, but of course he ignores it and returns to his puppet.

“Kyungsoo?”

Said boy is driven out of his trance when he finds a pair of white shoes come into view, right beneath the book he’s currently reading. It’s followed by an outstretched palm with a tiny round pill at the center of it, then a glass of water too, then the foot begins tapping and Kyungsoo decides to look up, shrinking immediately at the expectant gaze focused on him.

“What’s this?” He asks, barely audibly.

“Its just laxatives. Take them here.” The nurse looks rather bored.

“Its okay I don’t-“

“Do we have a problem?” she purses her lips, trying to look stern. She only ends up looking funny, Kyungsoo thinks.

Not wanting to cause any ruckus, he obliges, downing the medication he doubts he needs. The nurse only gives him a once over before sparing not a single second moving on to the next patient, a very eager looking Oh Sehun who is about to get his daily dose of laxatives.

Kyungsoo closes his eyes and sighs, wondering how his life has become this way. He absentmindedly pats over his pocket, eventually fishing out the pack of French cigarettes they’ve allowed him.

Slipping one in between his teeth, he’s about to head over to the nurse’s office to ask someone to light ‘em up when he lifts his gaze and realizes that Jongin’s been staring at him.

Their gazes meet and Kyungsoo notes how Jongin’s eyes don’t ever seem to be any less…intense. The corner of the latter’s lips curve up into a cocky smirk as he holds his puppet up and makes it wave. Kyungsoo looks around only to confirm that the greeting is addressed to him.

He doesn’t wave back. Instead he ducks his head and buries his nose in his book, forgetting completely about the unlit cigarette that is still wedged between his teeth and trying so hard to ignore the obvious footsteps that are coming closer his way.

‘you might as well live’

the line in the book reads. He can’t seem to move on from it, reading it over and over again in his mind if only to distract himself, stopping only when the footsteps do too. Yet again, another pair of shoes come into view. No longer the clean white ones of the nurse a while ago but instead a pair of old worn out slippers.

“Can I bum one?”  

Kyungsoo looks up, trailing his eyes over the figure standing in front of him and taking in the long tanned legs, the masculine hands, the broad shoulders, the plump lips, and the lilac hair.

Jongin is still staring at him, it’s almost as if he doesn’t even blink.

“Uhm” Kyungsoo unintelligently offers after realizing that he’s probably been bluntly staring at the other too. There’s a knowing smirk on Jongin’s lips that tells him the other is quite enjoying the attention.

The smaller simply takes the packet out again and hands it over in offering. Jongin takes one, rolls it in his fingers for what Kyungsoo feels like it the longest minute ever, and continues to stare with a scrutinizing expression. In the background the other patients subtly side-eye the pair, intrigued.

The tanned boy opens his mouth to speak, stops when he seems to remember something, prods underneath his tongue with two fingers before taking out the two tablets he had supposedly swallowed just a minute ago and pocketing them. 

“So you ever had a Melvin? Or do they give you shocks” he asks nonchalantly, vibrating his body in a brief re-enactment of ‘getting shocks’.

Kyungsoo blinks a few times before answering, face still caught in a grimace from what he just previously witnessed. “Wednesdays and Thursdays…”

“Nasty guy isn’t he.”

“Tolerable, I’d say.”

Jongin tongues the inside of his cheeks, reaching to his side and pulling a chair to his front and sitting on it backwards. Never not once does his eyes leave the smaller boy. “What’re you readin?”

“Poems.”

“Tonight I can write the saddest lines and other eries like that?”

“I suppose so.”

“Read me something.” The tanned boy’s smirk turns into a full blown grin as he rests his chin on top of the chair’s backrest. Kyungsoo swallows, not really sure if this is some sort of test or an actual attempt to converse. His eyes flicker to the background and there he spots Baekhyun, pursing his lips and raising his brow in silent urging.

“It’s short.”

“Oh I don’t mind.”

He clears his throat once he notes that Jongin is still waiting patiently for the show, and without further demand he begins reading, with a soft but clear voice.

“This one’s by Dorothy Parker...” He starts off, gaze flickering to the boy in front of him who all but watches intently.

“Razors pain you, rivers are damp,

acid stains you, drugs cause cramps,

guns aren't lawful, nooses give,

gas smells awful, you might as well live."

Kyungsoo stares at the last words on the page, smoothing it out with his palms and tracing the letters with his fingers.

All the while Jongin observes, bitting the inside of his cheek while his expression remains blank. The unlit cigarette is still in between his fingers.

“Your got a name?” he finally comments, breaking the extended silence. There’s a notable change in his tone and it’s not gentle, but it’s not as harsh anymore either.

Kyungsoo looks up from his book and clears his throat. Nodding, he replies softly “Kyungsoo… And yours, it’s Jongin if I’m not mistaken”

“The one and only.”

“You gonna light that up?” the smaller sceptically eyes the cigarette in Jongin’s hand, though the latter promptly does the same.

“You gonna light yours?”

They stare at each other, Jongin’s grin a mesmerizing sight to behold Kyungsoo decides.

 The tanned boy breaks eye contact first, rolling his eyes and slightly inclining his head back, probably sensing the meddling eyes and ears that are trying to get into his and Kyungsoo’s little bubble of personal space.

“Ya’ll mother ers better mind your own ing businesses!” He shouts, his voice echoing through the entire room almost as loud as Chanyeol’s. Not many react, it’s only Baekhyun who visibly jumps in his seat and Luhan who dumbly shouts back an apology. All the rest remain unfazed, too used to such behaviour.

When Jongin regards Kyungsoo again there’s a smile on his face, the wide grin interrupted rudely by the cigarette wedged in between his teeth. As he raises his one hand, Kyungsoo suddenly comes face to face with the same puppet he had been toying with just moments ago.  

“Let’s go doll face let’s go!” He says in a shrilly, almost annoying voice.

Kyungsoo watches as the tanned boy stands and kicks his chair aside, nonchalantly stripping the poor puppet off his hand and flinging it to the side effectively hitting someone in the face (it was Chanyeol).

He doesn’t know why he does it but something drives Kyungsoo to follow the boy as he smugly strides down the hallways in the direction of the nurse’s office, somehow confident that the smaller was right on his trail, not giving one glance back.

They walk in silence, or at least Kyungsoo does. Jongin constantly winking and throwing unnecessary side comments to anyone who passes by.

Three knocks on the glass window has the nurse on the other side looking up from her checkboard, grinning suggestively at Jongin and hardly paying any attention to Kyungsoo.

“Light me up darling.” Is all he says.

Casually the taller of the two leans his arm against the glass while jutting the cigarette into the tiny pigeon hole with his mouth. The nurse mumbles something about too much smoking being bad etc. without much conviction, holding a lighter against Jongin’s cigarette. He smirks, taking a swig before bidding a thank you and purposely letting the smoke waft from his mouth into the pigeon hole.

Kyungsoo on the other hand is in the midst of problematizing how on earth he’d pull of the same act and light his own stick up when all of a sudden a hand roughly slides behind his neck. Before he could even say anything, much less protest, Jongin’s cigarette is against his own, his head slightly bent making the veins on his neck protrude.

An ember glow emits from the tips of their roll-ups, Kyungsoo unable to stop his eyes from wandering slowly up to the beautiful wreck before him that is Kim Jongin. He looks tragically breath-taking up close like this, the bags underneath his eyes and the cig in his mouth like the small touches in an art piece that make it what it is. Kyungsoo’s eyes fall half-lidded at the thought that the only things keeping them from kissing right now are the two cancer sticks in between.

Jongin’s gaze meets his own and the former smirks like he knows.

When the tanned boy pulls away Kyungsoo catches his breath, nearly inhaling the smoke into his lungs. It takes him a while to realize that the hall is as quiet as he thinks it is, the buzz of voices a while ago reduced to mere murmurs in the background. Jongin’s reprimand was obviously not enough, the others insisting on sticking their noses where they’re not wanted.

“Monkey ed.”

The taller’s voice interrupts his thoughts and he blinks, not sure if he heard right or if he’s going slightly delusional. “What?”

“Lighting a cigarette from an already lit bud. We just Monkey ed sweet pea.”

“ah…”

“You learn something new everyday yeah?”

Kyungsoo exhales a breath of smoke against his gritted teeth.

For a while Jongin keeps the conversation going with more discussions of pointless things and random, unimportant facts, laughing exaggeratingly loud at something utterly mundane. He doesn’t even seem to care whether Kyungsoo is listening or not, the smaller merely staring dumbfounded, unsure of how to react to this monologue.

It isn’t until a look of contemplation crosses Jongin’s face, the boy side-eyeing his surroundings cautiously, that Kyungsoo realizes his motifs.

He was trying to lose the other’s attention, bore them, so to say. And when Kyungsoo himself takes a brief glance around it seems safe to conclude that it was working, the spotlight had dimmed and everyone was back to their own little worlds. 

Jongin, realizing this too, rounds an arm on Kyungsoo’s shoulders and drags him further down the hall, eyes on high alert for any staff. When he deems the coast clear enough he leans low, his breath warm against Kyungsoo’s ear, his breath smelling of smoke and faint pot.

“Come to the art room” He whispers, barely audibly, a stark contrast to his normally booming voice and screaming presence. “30 minutes past the 12 midnight checks. Head to the storage room at the back. Make sure no one sees you.”

“Why?” the smaller of the two looks up in confusion only to feel Jongin’s warmth leave his side.

“Thanks for the whiff” is all the tanned male responds with, already striding 10 steps ahead of him, Kyungsoo’s question carried away by the smoke from his lips.

At one point, he turns and stops briefly in front of Baekhyun and Kyungsoo’s room, slowly taking a step back and resuming his stride further down to his own place, shaking his head and silently scolding himself.

Kyungsoo watches until Jongin disappears completely, fiddling with the hem of his shirt, feeling heat rise up to his cheeks and something foreign tug his heart.  

A/N: This is taking me too long to write here have the first half T_T