I was 18 when I told my parents the truth.

My mother had known for a while, she just kept shut. Pretending it wasn’t so. My father… well my father had always been a proud man.

“Dad… I… I like men”

He didn’t understand at first, my mother’s breath cached in . Her head shaking as if to tell me, no Junho, don’t do it. Keep it to yourself.

“I like men, dad. I’ve known for a while now”

I could see him shake, bite his lips, tighten his fist. This would pass. I had to keep telling myself that. He would understand. He’s my father, the man responsible for me being here. He will be mad, but he would understand. Right?

My father had never laid a finger on me before. Not even to punish me for one of the many wrong doings I had committed. He had never lost his temper to that extend.

Which is why when I saw his arm rise, his fist moved forward… it never occur to me that he would do what he did.

The blows hurt, I could feel the bruises forming as his foot came at me over and over again. A kick to my rib, a punch to my cheek, my spit mix with blood trailing down my chin. My mother crying, screaming. Stop. Please stop. You are going to kill him. He’s your son.

He didn’t listen though. I wasn’t sure if I was crying out in pain, or just lying there silently taking the beating. Honestly I think I out at some point. But what I do remember, what was encrypted in my brain from that day were his words…  

You are no son of mine. I didn’t bring a disgusting piece of like that into the world. Leave and get rid of whatever demon possessed you. How dare you…

I moved out of the house after that. My mother helped me out for a while, but then my father found out. She never told me herself, but I’m sure he didn’t go easy on her. 

I was 19 when I decided that my pride was not worth not having a steady place to stay, and not knowing whether or not I would be able to have a meal each day.

I returned to my father, on hands and knees and forehead pressed to the floor. I told him I was sorry. That he had been right. That it was nothing but a face, that I was confused, that I have gotten rid of my demons and I wanted to be his son again. I lied through my teeth.

He took me in, with some incentive and probably begging from my mother, and that is when the most miserable years of my life began.

I lived a double life. I enroll in school for general studies, joined the local soccer team and even got myself a pretty little thing whose name I honestly don’t even remember, but that my father loved. She was pretty, sweet, and most importantly a girl. I even when as far as ing her in the house a few times, making sure that my parents would catch us in the act. She was in love. I didn’t feel a damn thing.

My life became a bass and empty desert. I ate, slept, shower, and socialized. My body was going through the motions, but my mind was slowly sinking in on itself. I began to look for an outlet, a way to feel something. Anything. This numbness that took over me, this feeling of helplessness and despair… I wanted it to go away.

It began with an experimental visit to a bar, a very particular kind of bar. I remember what I wore that day. Jeans that hugged me in all the right places, a mesh tank that I had purchased with the pretense of it been use for a custom, a black leather jacket that I had saved months to be able to afford. My hair was long but I used it to my advantage, soft black curls framing my child like face, a bit of gloss on my lips and a fail attempt to make my eyes look bigger by wearing some eye liner.

I thought I looked good, and apparently so did the men there.

I didn’t have to do anything for my first pick up, there were a few choices, and some of them looked interested others didn’t bother. Cute but inexperienced. I heard one of them said. But there was someone that didn’t seem to be bothered by this fact.

Kim Ki Bum.  He told me his name was, but he preferred I called him Key.

Key was charming, handsome, dreamy, but most of all he had patience.  He was gentle with me, but rough enough to leave me wanting more.

I came to him. Time and time again. Looking to escape from the prison I had created for myself. But eventually Key wasn’t enough. I met Seungri next, his real name I never learn but he sure as hell talked a lot. Then there was, Ren, the one with the angle face and luscious lips. He was the first one I top, the memory of him begging and wanton under me one I would forever retain.

There were more after them, but no one relevant enough for me to remember.

I slowly began to lose myself. I no longer knew which part of me was real. The one that put up a front and lie about who he was. Or the one that sneaked out at night to do what he thought he wanted, but that only left him feeling more empty and numb.

It was around this time that my chance to get away came knocking. An audition to a talent company, I sang, I dance, I looked the part, so I got in. My dad was not pleased. I couldn’t give a anymore.

 It when ok for the first six months, I was too busy with all the new things going on around me to think or worried about anything, but than just like with everything else in my life the excitement past. Only this time it got worse. Adding the pressure of being a trainee to the issues I already had. Let’s just said it ended with a trip to the emergency room. I took the pills, lots of them, hoping I would fall asleep without having to wake up again. I couldn’t go through with it though, too big a coward to really do it.

The company sent me to see a shrink, they gave me pills… were more “gentle” with me after that, but eventually I became too much of a burden… more trouble than I was worth… and I was dropped.

I wasn’t sure if Taecyeon was even listening anymore.

We were in a small coffee house a few blocks away from the apartment. We had walked here, the wind was cold but the sun burned hot and I enjoyed the feeling of it on my face. We walked mostly in silence, making small talk about Taecyeon’s work as a security guard in a local bank. He hated the hours, but the night shift always brought in a bigger paycheck, so he could live with the itchy uniform and the lack of human interaction. 

We talked about MinJun and how he had gotten out of calling Fei on that night. Wooyoung was a reasonable kid, Taecyeon assure me, and he wouldn’t let MinJun embarrass himself in that way, especially after the man finally found someone that was worth it. Or so Taecyeon told me.

Eventually we ran out of topics to small talk about and the hard ones, the ones we were both dancing around, began to emerge.

He asked about my parents first, and from there one thing led to another and I began to talk. It was Taecyeon… so talking was something I could do easily. Now we sat facing one another, his gaze locked on mines, and a steaming cup of warm apple cider in front of me. It’s was safest thing in the room so I reached for it, it was sweet and warm and spicy and comforting.

“Did you… did you think about me at all?”

Selfish bastard. Did I think of him? How about every second of every day? But of course that is not what said.

“Not even once. I had too much going on with my life at the time”

“That’s not fair… There was not a day that when by that you didn’t cross my brain”

He sounded so sincere. It made me want to believe him.

“For someone that kick me out of his life, that completely ignore my existence… that’s a very up thing to say”

“What I did was a up thing to do, but I was young and…”

“And stupid, and dumb. Yeah you told me before. But now I want to tell you something…”

He waited patiently for me to speak. I was looking for that stoic expression he usually has, hoping it would help me go on with what I want it to say. It wasn’t there.

“You don’t have to walk on tip toes around me Taec. I want to move on… And I can’t do that if you’re apologizing and reminding me every chance you get. I can’t forgive you… not yet. I know you are not entirely to blame for the way things turned out, but, and this may be selfish of me, I need someone to blame, it’s easier that way. I know it’s wrong…”

“What if I don’t want you to move on?”

He wasn’t looking at me. Confident, sure of himself Taecyeon was not in front of me at the moment. He kept fidgeting with his glass, seemed nervous, unsure of himself.

“What are you going to tell me Taec? There’s nothing you can do that would change the past. Not a damn thing.”

“I know I can’t take back what I did, all I’m asking is for you to give me the chance to redeem myself. I’m not the same scare kid I was back then Junho, I see things differently, I look at the world from a wider perspective”

“So you are not disgusted by me anymore?”

“Who said I ever was? Did it ever occur to you, that it wasn’t you I was running from?”

"Then who Taec, if it wasn’t me, then who?”

We were both at the edge of our seats, our voices a loud whisper. A few people were beginning to stare, and I pulled back. Things were not supposed to go this way. We were supposed to talk, settle things. Instead this outing had turned out into an all-out war of suppressed emotions that just kept making it harder and harder to keep a level head. The main culprit no one by myself.

Taecyeon seem to be conflicted as well, the paper napkin he had been holding was now nothing more than a stack of crumbled little pieces of paper. I reached out for it, our fingers brushing slyly as I took what was left of the napkin from his hand, but before I could pull away he took my hand on his. A small gesture, yet extremely comforting.

“We won’t resolve anything like this you know” He told me, my eyes moving away from our lock fingers and to his face.

“I know…”

The afternoon when on. The difficult conversation was put away for the moment and I try my best to enjoy myself.

It wasn’t hard. It was Taecyeon after all.

On that afternoon I made a promise to myself. As we sat in the bus that took us into the city, me with my forehead pressed against the glass, watching as the city rapidly sped by, feeling Taecyeon’s shoulder brushed mines every so often… I promise myself that I would find a way to make things work. That I would pull myself out of the darkness I had willingly allowed to take over. In the dark I could hide, in the dark no one could see me, so no one could hurt me. But hiding wasn’t living… hiding wasn’t moving on.

“I think I want to start seeing a therapist again.” He moved beside me, adjusting the big unnecessary scarf he had worn. The thing was hideous but I didn’t have the heart to tell him.

“If that’s what you want”

“I think it would do me good”

Something warm wrapped around my hands, long misshapen fingers intertwining with my own. I wanted to tell him to not do that… to not be this way. To not make me crave for that warmth that only he could offer me. The warmth that made me wish it was more than just a friendly gesture… the warmth that made me wish my world was a storybook fairytale and I could live happily ever after in my castle… protected, unreachable, safe. 

“Junho, just the man I wanted to see”

It was Wooyoung that welcomed me when we came into the house. An arm wrapped over my shoulders and a confident looked on his face. I looked at Taecyeon for help, but he simply shrugged, heading for his room and leaving me at Wooyoung’s mercy.

“Please, kindly tell this Thai bastard that I am a good cook, and that he is exaggerating by banning me and MinJun from the kitchen”

Nichkhun was sitting in the living room couch, Chansung on his right, both looking at Wooyoung as if he had lost his mind.

“Tell the truth Junho” Chansung encourage me “Did you, or did you not had to make repetitive trips to the bathroom after you ate their food yesterday?”

Everyone was watching me, waiting for my response, even Taecyeon who had now returned to the living room. I thought of the previous night’s dinner. Unable to recall what exactly I had eaten but remembering how I wished I had taken Taecyeon’s advice and escaped with Chansung when I had the chance.

“I didn’t have to go the bathroom that much…” I began and Wooyoung’s expression brighten.

“But… if we were to put this to a house vote, I think I would vote in favor of Khun”

The room burst into laughter, all but Wooyoung who came at me with a vengeance. The whole situation was utterly ridiculous but it soon ended when MinJun came into the house.

I really didn’t think it was possible to get MinJun mad, but after seeing his face I made a mental note to never be the reason for that look of pure rage in his eyes.

“I heard the most interesting story today Nichkhun” He said, his voiced dried, eyes fixated on Khun.

“And what may that be MinJun”

There was a palpable tension in the room, Taecyeon standing near MinJun, looking ready to jump in if necessary. Chansung and Wooyoung seem to just blend in with the furniture, remaining perfectly still, I had to look closely to see if they were still breathing.

“Minho, Nichkhun? That’s who you left with the other night? I don’t even know what to ing say to you right now”

“Then don’t ing say anything. No one asked for your opinion”

Nichkhun was up and walking away within seconds. Walking passed MinJun and bumping his shoulder forcefully in the process. I wasn’t sure what had just happened, or who this Minho character was, but the hurt in Nichkhun’s eyes at that moment… it was something I wish I never had to see again.

“Channie?” Taecyeon’s voice was soft but it cut through the silence that had fallen over the room.

“I got it hyung” Chansung answered, getting up and walking in the same direction Nichkhun had just when on.

“Let’s go to my room and talk MinJun, you need to chill” Taecyeon guided MinJun away next, leaving me and Wooyoung alone in the living room. I wanted to ask, but wasn’t sure if I could. Finally, I heard Wooyoung sigh, getting up from the couch.

“Woo… who’s Minho?”

“He’s nothing but a parasite that wormed its way into Khun’s life. Nothing for you to worried about. MinJun is acting like this now but… he and Khun go way back. They always work things out”

I saw Nichkhun again that night.

I couldn’t sleep, and eventually gave up trying. I went to the kitchen, hoping a glass of warm milk could help cool me down, but instead I found Nichkhun. He was sitting in the dark, not even turning to look at me when I came in.

“Milk?” I asked, and he smiled.

“Sure”

I went to work, pouring the right amount of milk into a pot and placing it on the stove. I stood next to it, stirring it every so often.

“You are not going to ask?”

“I figure if you want to talk about it, you will on your own terms”

I pulled two mugs and set them on the counter, fetching the honey from the pantry and pouring a bit on both mugs. 

“All my life I’ve learned to suffer in silence. That was the phrase that first got me interested in reading Coelho’s books” Nichkhun said after a moment’s silence, watching as I pour the milk into the mugs.

“Very insightful guy that Coelho” I placed a mug in front of him, taking the empty barstool beside him and sitting down.

“You read his books before?”

“Nope, but the one thing I learned training to be an idol was how to bull my way thought things”

His honest laugh was a sound I had gotten accustomed to in such a short amount of time that I was starting to think there was some sort of enchantment on it. He turned to me then, without warning or notice he leaned closer, his forehead resting on my shoulder, his hand gripping my arm.

I’ve never been good at this sort of things. Comforting others… how could I do that when I couldn’t even lie to myself in order to make me feel better?

“Where there is desire, there is gonna be a flame. Where there is a flame someone's bound to get burned. But just because it burns doesn't mean you're gonna die. You've gotta get up and try”

“Who said that?” He asked me, not lifting his head from my shoulder.

“The one and only Pink”

This time he did looked up, looking at me as if he had not heard right.

“Pink?”

“American pop music Khun, not all of us read inspirational books for fun” 

He was laughing again, shaking his head in disbelief.

“If only you weren’t already spoken for Junho…”  

a/n - This story is completed. Rest will be up soon as I get a chance to finish editing it. Hope is to your liking 

-3ni