3.

I’m a haywire mind 
with nothing to hold onto
I keeping sinking and sinking
but I never drown

He feels like he’s just crashed onto the shore, except he keeps getting pulled back by the waves. Like water is filling his lungs as his vision goes black, and he doesn’t know how to swim.

Woojin misses two school days in a row. He keeps his door locked and doesn’t answer his phone, barely moving beyond the comfort of his bed. He had opted for suffocating in the darkness of his room over the brightness of the sun that only reminded him of every reason he wasn’t allowed to be happy.

Guilt, guilt, guilt, guilt. He doesn’t know any other emotion; guilt is all that surrounds him. And he should have known that the build up from the past few weeks were bound to catch up with him faster than he could try to swallow them down; the sleepless nights should have been an indicator that he was going to snap soon enough. Confusion and despair come crashing down at him all at once. And even then, he still feels like there’s something he isn’t getting, something that would make him understand just why he hated himself so much. Not that there isn’t already a mountain of reasons he could list, but there’s something so hollow in his mind, and it feels like it’s trying to clamber its way out against his own will. Is there something he isn’t remembering properly?

There’s a loud knocking at his door, voices that are screaming at him to open up. But he’s not sure he wants to. It continues on for minutes and he gets up only because he knows how persistent his friends are and he’s not going to be able to go back to sleep with Daehwi shrieking at him from outside of his room. He hasn’t looked in the mirror in hours, he’s not even sure what time it is—the only indication of the time of day is the fact that it’s quite dim outside.

He unlocks the door and trudges back to his bed, still void of expression as all three of them burst into his room and start yelling at him.

“Park Woojin what the hell do you think you’re doing?” Daehwi fumes, arms crossed and anyone else who were to see the sight might have thought he was the older one. He doesn’t answer, he just stares blankly at the floor from the foot of his bed.

“Woojin, is there something wrong?” Donghyun’s voice reaches his ears—much softer—and he sees the older boy kneel down in front of him. “You aren’t answering any of our calls. Did you even go to school today?”

He shakes his head slowly, hearing Daehwi’s exasperated huff from his left side.

“Why are you skipping class?” Youngmin asks him, sitting next to him on the bed. Woojin feels like he’ll get a headache if he speaks up, so he continues to stay quiet. He can the frustration slowly build up, in his friends for his silence, and in him because he just doesn’t want to talk about it.

“This isn’t fair, you know. You don’t get to hide things from us when all we want to do is help you.” The headache comes anyways, slow but distressing. He closes his eyes shut, brows furrowing and teeth digging deep into his lip. “No one is asking for a full blown-story, Woojin—“

“And no one is asking for you either but look who forced his way in.” Immediate regret washes over him as he looks up at Daehwi’s face, shock crossing his face and the room falls into a torturous silence.

Woojin doesn’t think twice before rushing out the door to follow Daehwi. He scrambles down the stairs with a heavy heart and finds the younger boy sitting on a couch in the lounge of their building. He approaches him slowly, trying to gather his thoughts and figuring out how to apologize to his best friend for completely ing up.

He in a breath when he stands in front of the sullen boy. “I’m sorry.”

Daehwi doesn’t look up, he just continues to stare at the wall but Woojin can see the glistening tears he can tell he’s forcing himself to hold back. Woojin kneels down in front of him and tries to grab his hand, but Daehwi jerks it out of his hold and crosses his arms, refusing to meet his gaze. Woojin’s head falls into his hands, running a hand through his hair before he moves to sit beside the younger and grabs him by the shoulders to face him. “Look at me, Daehwi.”

The blond finally meets his eyes with his own bitter ones, and Woojin can see the disappointment—it fills him up in an all too familiar feeling. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean any of that, I was just— I’ve been distant and snappy the past few days and I was frustrated but I didn’t mean to hurt you like that.” He pauses and bites his lip, Daehwi’s angry features have relaxed but he still doesn’t look convinced. “I just have a lot going on in my mind and a lot of stuff that I can’t really explain, but I just want you to know that you are so important to me.

“And I know that it was still uncalled for either way but—Can you please forgive me?”

Woojin has both of Daehwi’s hands in his, pleading eyes and a shaky voice. Daehwi finally speaks up, in an unusually quiet voice that has Woojin feeling even more guilty, “Sounded like it was true.”

“It’s not!” He denies promptly, “Daehwi, I’m seriously so sorry, I’m such a up and I shouldn’t have said that because it isn’t true. I got carried away in my irritability and I’m sorry. But I could never hate you, okay? I honestly don’t know what I would do without you.”

At the slump of his shoulders Woojin thinks he’s slowly getting closer towards forgiveness. “You’re my anchor.” He says suddenly and has to try his best not to snort at Daehwi’s shocked expression, “Like, um, when I feel like I’m drifting away you keep me grounded. And I know I don’t show it much but I’m really grateful for you and I want you to know that.”

Woojin waits for a reaction; they stay quiet for a while and the confidence he had in his ability to at least receive acceptance before forgiveness is immediately shut down by the intrusive negative thoughts spinning around in his head. He watches the younger with uncertainty, and he can feel his palms start to clam up. He pulls his hands away to wipe them on his sweats, “Sorry I’m like sweating a lot wow—“

Arms reach out to wrap around Woojin, catching him off guard. “I— oh, you’re hugging me this is, new. And weird.”

“I don’t care I’m doing it anyways.” Daehwi rests his chin on Woojin’s shoulder. Woojin pats him awkwardly on the back and Daehwi snorts. “You’re terrible at this.”

Woojin glares at him before proceeding to tighten his hold on the boy, squeezing him as tight as he can.

“Woojin, I can’t.. breathe..”

“Why? Because I’m breathtakingly good-looking?”

“No because you’re literally squishing the life out of me!” Daehwi shrieks, probably sore from the bone-crushing hug Woojin is giving him. Woojin merely chuckles and continues to hug him despite the younger’s attempts to push him off. Daehwi groans in defeat when he doesn’t seem to be letting go, giving in and reaching his hands to wrap around the older’s waist, hugging him back just as tight.

“I don’t know what you’re going through but just know that I’m here for you if you want to talk about it. Always.” Woojin nods with hesitation into the crook of Daehwi’s neck. “Take your time, okay? Tell me when you’re ready.”

As much as he's grateful for Daehwi's assurance to be there when he needs to talk, truth be told, he’s terrified. Terrified that once his friends hear about the person he used to be, he’ll lose everything. It repeats like an unwanted mantra in his mind.

He’s going to leave you.

Woojin starts to fall back into routine the day after, not with any ounce of enthusiasm (has he ever really had that when it came to school?) but with the resolution of being smart about his time and money. His history class still continues to drain the life out of him, and even more so because he has to face Jihoon after his outburst from their last meeting.

They meet up in the library this time, and Woojin figures it gives the older an excuse to not have to talk to him. The dark circles under Jihoon’s eyes don’t go unnoticed, he clearly looks like he hasn’t slept well in days. There’s a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach as he realizes he might be the reason for it. Scratch that, he’s definitely the reason for it. The guilt is far from evaporated and seeing him kind of makes him want to crawl back into his bed sheets and never leave his room again. But unfortunately, there's still a world out there and he needs to be living in it, despite the many reasons he can come up with as to why he doesn't want to.  

Jihoon leads them into a secluded corner in the library where a small two-seater desk is. He’s a little surprised that Jihoon wants them to sit here of all places, being that it’s quite far and hidden from everyone else, but he also knows that this won’t stop him from ignoring him anyways. He probably just didn’t want anyone to see him with him. It leads him to wonder if Jihoon had ever told anyone else about who he was and what he had done in the past. Maybe there are people out there he doesn’t know who already hate him. Though it’s not surprising, he would hate himself too. He already does.

Two hours of silence goes by and Woojin manages to make progress quicker that he thought he would. The extra notes that Jihoon had added to his were undoubtedly helpful for his paper and Woojin wonders whether Jihoon had this information at the top of his head already. The corrections he had made at their first meeting made it seem like he was better at history than he was letting on and only slacked off as a means of frustrating Woojin. And even though it should make him angry, it doesn’t quite do that. He’s a little annoyed, but recently he had been coming to a conclusion that he deserved everything bad that was continuing to happen to him.

He gets up to browse the bookshelves; they needed at least one source from a book in the school library. As he’s looking through the shelves his phone vibrates in his pocket.

winkly : hey friend help me I’m dying of boredom  

chamsaes:  I mean it’s not like I’m any more interesting

winkly:  shut up u are

chamsaes : now now don’t go falling for me

winkly : I take it back you’re more boring than homework

chamsaes:  mhm whatever helps you sleep at night

winkly : u just said urself that ur boring and now ur acting like ur amazing

winkly : what are u I don't understand u

chamsaes : i’m a mystery :)

winkly : ur frustrating is what u are

chamsaes : you shouldn’t be attacking someone that you want to help relieve your boredom

winkly : ok im sorry don’t leave I might actually cry bc of how much I hate school

chamsaes : I mean… im not opposed to seeing that

winkly : r00d

chamsaes : just kidding

chamsaes : or am i

winkly : aNYWAYS

winkly : im so sleep deprived omggg

chamsaes : rip all I’ve been doing for the past few days is sleeping

winkly : lol did u fall asleep in class

chamsaes : more like I didn't go..

winkly : smh skipper

winkly : even I don’t skip

chamsaes : hey don’t shame me

chamsaes : I was feeling horrible and I still am but I can’t lie around forever ://

winkly : oh sorry to hear

winkly : I hope u feel better!

chamsaes : thanks

chamsaes : so what are you doing

winkly : im procrastinating and scrolling through tumblr whoopsss

chamsaes : wow I don't think you have the right to attack me for skipping

winkly : hey at least I go to class and get my work done on time

chamsaes : who says I don't get my work done

winkly : I have an inkling you’re secretly a party dude who drinks and doesn’t like going to school just pretending to be shy on here

chamsaes : that….

chamsaes : could not be more wrong oh god

chamsaes : that is horribly inaccurate

chamsaes : the angels above are laughing at this

winkly : how do I know it’s not true hm?

chamsaes : take my word for it lmao

chamsaes : that's the funniest thing I’ve ever heard oh god

He finds the book he needs after much struggle (and distraction due to winkly) and heads back to their table. Jihoon is still working away on his laptop and refusing to so much as look at him. Woojin wants to say something, he knows he should. But he’s terrible with words and all he can think about is how he’s gonna mess up and ruin things even more, and that’s the last thing they need in the midst of their partnership.

One day, he thinks, one day he’ll make things right.

Jihoon scrolls wordlessly through articles among articles of information—at some point he’s not even sure if he’s retaining any of it, the words just pass over his head and he doesn't have any motivation left in him to write any of it down. It’s not very like him to be distracted, he’s usually one to get things over with quick and painlessly (as painless as it can get with history), but so many things have been on his mind recently. Couple that with his lack of sleep and suddenly he doesn’t feel like doing anything ever again.

He doesn’t say a word to Woojin, not after their last encounter. He had worked so hard to build up this façade—hide his misery behind walls and not let anyone find thrill in breaking him again. He’s supposed to be strong, he’s supposed to be unbreakable. But how are you supposed to be strong in front of the person who broke you in the first place?

There’s been so much pain recently that he’s not quite sure what happiness even is anymore. Maybe it’s just an illusion, maybe he was just never meant to have it at all.

He spends his break talking to his online friend chamsaes while simultaneously scrolling through tumblr. There’s something so interesting about him that Jihoon can’t really seem to put his finger on. Somehow they feel so different yet so similar. He doesn’t expect to understand him but he does, and in turn chamsaes listens to everything he says, even if he’s being super vague about it. He’s one of the only people besides Donghan that Jihoon feels comfortable being more himself around. And it’s kind of weird, that he’s able to be so trusting with a stranger that’s somewhere on the same campus as him yet he still doesn’t know his identity. He could be someone from his old high school for all he knows, but somehow there's a sense of security, like he knows that chamsaes won't do anything to betray him. This kind of faith is a little uncharacteristic, even he knows that. But it doesn't stop him from believing it. 

He looks up from his phone when Woojin places a stack of books on his side of the desk.

The younger boy tosses his phone onto the table before leaving for what he figures is the bathroom. Jihoon is still texting chamsaes, and is quite surprised when he sees Woojin’s phone lights up the second he sends a message. It’s probably a breach of privacy to look at his phone, but his curiosity at who had the exact same timing as him to send Woojin a message gets the better of him and he peeks over, spinning Woojin’s phone around and looking at the notification.

He doesn’t expect this, and he doesn’t want to expect this. He doesn’t want this to be real. But there it is, his SoraChat screen name on Woojin’s phone with the message that he had just sent.

Woojin is chamsaes.

Woojin.. is chamsaes.

He’s not even sure if his anger is justifiable at the moment but he feels it anyways. Is Woojin doing this knowingly? Does he know that its Jihoon he’s talking to and is he trying to gain leverage over him again?

He knows that Woojin had said that he isn’t the person he was before. But Jihoon doesn’t want to believe that it’s true. He doesn’t want to believe that evil can turn good. Villains were supposed to stay villains, that’s the only way he can feel guiltless about spiting them.

Jihoon is beyond the point of civility; all previous thoughts about trusting chamsaes with his stories are thrown out the window when he figures out who he actually is. He lets his emotions get the best of him and does what he thinks is the only solution to this discovery.

He’s going to get revenge on his middle school tormentor.

Jihoon gets home by six every night this week. It’s not desirable but it’s not like he has a choice when Donghan keeps threatening to kick him out onto the streets if he even thinks about coming home at ten in the morning like he had done the previous week. And even though he knows that Donghan would never have the heart to leave him to fend for himself, he feels terrible for making him worry. The tremble in his voice when Jihoon showed up after not coming home the previous night made him instantly regret scaring him like that. Donghan and his family truly care for Jihoon, he’s basically their own son—they had been so worried about him and he hadn’t even thought to call them to assure them that he was alright.

But it’s not like he had slept outside that night. He eventually discovered a sauna to rest at, because at least there was no one there who would be pestering him about everything that he didn’t want to talk about.

All he had wanted to do that night was let the remaining reality be forced out of his grip, until he was nothing. It’s like he’s fastened to the current but instead of fighting it, he’s just floating; and everyone is so high but he’s too low and there’s no one to balance him out. The more he thinks about it the more he realizes that he is much like a paradox—so lifeless underneath his charming demeanor. One that's held to be so enticing and valiant, but in truth is insatiable beyond his effort to fill himself with short-lived satisfaction.

Jihoon looks up from his phone and sees Donghan with his chin propped up against clasped hands, watching him intently. “What are you doing?”

“Watching you to make sure you don’t leave the house and not come back again.”

Jihoon scoffs, “That’s hardly necessary. I just wasn’t feeling the best that night and I needed to clear my head. I’m good now.”

“Are you sure?” Donghan gets up from his spot and drags his chair to Jihoon’s bedside, turning it backwards and sitting down on it, arms coming up to rest on the top of the chair. “Because you’ve been saying that a lot recently and every time it gets a little less convincing.”

“Be real, did you ever believe it?”

“Nope. I just thought I’d go along with it for a while because I knew you were working hard and I didn’t want to deflate your confidence.”

Jihoon sighs, “Am I really that obvious?”

“Maybe not to anyone else, but I’ve know you for years, Jihoon. You may think you’re great at putting on this façade for everyone else but I can see right through you.”

“Maybe it would have been easier to get a dumber friend.” Jihoon grumbles under his breath, but the sudden noise of a twitter video he accidentally opens up (and almost causes him to drop his phone on his face) might have drowned out the rest of his words.

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” Donghan sticks out his chest pridefully—he has ears like a bat, that kid. After he finally inflates under Jihoon’s glare, he pokes at the brunette’s knee, “You know what you should do? Keep a diary.”

Jihoon’s expression is a cross between puzzlement and distaste, to which Donghan rolls his eyes.

“Fine, call it a journal if you’re so turned off by that word. Why does everyone hate the word diary?”

“Because it implies that the content is disgusting cheesy about love and I’m not sure that’s what I want to be doing in my free time.” Jihoon states, voice distinctly disparaging.

“Okay well, journal it is, then. And it’s not a place to talk in detail about your hookups.” Donghan grimaces as he says it, “I just thought that if you’re not willing to talk to me about what’s bothering you, maybe you can start by writing them down somewhere. And I promise I won’t intrude, it’s for your eyes only.”

Jihoon considers it thoughtfully, it isn’t a horrible idea. Maybe writing some of his thoughts down instead of bottling it all up in his mind could be good for him. He gives Donghan a dismissive wave, wanting to get back to scrolling through twitter uninterrupted. “I’ll think about it.”

Jihoon ends up writing a few paragraphs every day. They’re hidden in the back of his environmental studies notebook that he knows he’ll never reach the end of. He doesn’t expect to get this into it, but somehow it manages to weave itself naturally into his nightly routine. Every night before he packs up his study materials for the day, he remembers to flip to the end of his notebook and write a few sentences about his day, who he talked to and how he felt. There was also a lot of complaining about Woojin and he might have been a little petty but it’s not like he ever plans to say any of it out loud. Maybe. Just as long as he wasn't being a prick. Was that even possible?

Talking to Woojin as winkly is—to say the very least—quite troublesome. And Jihoon doesn’t know how, but Woojin notices the shift. For someone he’d expected to be so oblivious, he’s quick to catch onto a change in their dynamic, even if it’s just through text.

It’s even more awkward when Woojin texts him while they’re together in the library. And maybe that’s why he’s caught on, since Jihoon now has to take his time in replying to make sure he doesn’t look too suspicious if his timing with his phone matches his texts with Woojin. Maybe that’s just him overthinking, but it’s not in his agenda to get caught—not before he can find something incriminating that he can use against him.

Woojin sits across from him, scanning through books, writing down notes, and checking his phone every once in a while. Jihoon hides himself behind his laptop, keeping his phone on silent so his notifications don’t ding every time Woojin sends a message. He’d been able to successfully get Woojin to open up more, most of the things he talks about are events from high school, but nothing too hard hitting. It’s a little frustrating—until he had found out about chamsaes identity, Jihoon had grown to enjoy talking to him. He was intriguing—a mystery, but Jihoon had figured (or, perhaps for a more proper depiction, stuck his nose into something that wasn’t his business) it out all too soon and boy, did that outcome fizzle. And now he’s all sorts of confused because he wants to like chamsaes but he knows who he is and he’s supposed to hate him—there’s really no other way he should feel. He dreads the fact that he’s so easy to talk to, and that he might even still enjoy it. He tries to forget about the fact that he's Woojin and only thinks of him as a stranger, just his online friend that he can talk to once in a while when he's bored. It becomes increasingly harder as Woojin becomes more playful and Jihoon has to stop himself from laughing at the things he says. At some point Jihoon had started to act more comfortable again and they soon fell into their usual dynamic.

chamsaes : the dayside café is probably /the/ coldest place on campus I swear

chamsaes : im like always there because it's the only place I can find a place to sit for lunch between classes and its literally a freezer

chamsaes : wait I shouldn’t have told you that I go there,,

winkly : lol its ok I won’t try to find u :p

chamsaes : why not, I thought you were gonna go all sherlock holmes on me

chamsaes : omg is this a ruse are you just making me think that you’re not gonna try to find me

winkly : ok calm down mr. paranoia lol I have better things to do than go on a sparrow hunt

chamsaes : offensive,, other people would love the chance to find me :///

winkly : u kept telling me u don’t want me to know who u are

winkly : stop being wishy washy its stressing me out

chamsaes : fine don’t find me I’ll stay hidden forever

winkly : I rly rLY don’t understand u

chamsaes : I told you im the greatest mystery of all

winkly : u spelt headache wrong

chamsaes : shut up

chamsaes : but just to be sure, im gonna stay low and hang out somewhere else for a while

chamsaes : you’ll never find me ha

winkly : what if u bump into me while trying to find somewhere else

chamsaes : even worse what if you’re always at the dayside café too and now that I’ve told you you’re gonna look for the person who frequents it o.o

winkly : okay that’s highly unlikely, I doubt you’d be able to /not/ notice my presence

chamsaes : I mean it’s not like we know what each other looks like, it could be possible

winkly : well,, I guess

chamsaes : YOU’RE THROWING ME OFF you’re so sketchy im gonna ditch that café for the time being

winkly : ur so dramatic honestly

Woojin’s voice cuts in and takes his attention away from his phone, “Read over this paragraph, I think it might be good to put in the presentation.” He slides his notebook towards Jihoon before beginning to pack the rest of his stuff up after checking the time. Jihoon tries to scan the page but the writing is a little messy and he can’t make out a few of the words.

“Did you write this with your foot?”

“What?” Woojin snaps, grabbing at his last pencil more harshly.

“I can barely read this, it would be easier if you had typed it up instead.”

“Well I forgot my laptop today and I didn’t want to run back to my dorm to get it.”

Jihoon sighs, sliding the notebook back. “You’re the root of every problem, aren’t you?” He watches as Woojin pauses at his words, his face falling and his eyes darting back and forth across the table. Jihoon can’t seem to figure out why he’s suddenly gone quiet. He sees the furrow of the younger’s brows, the way he winces and the little gasp that escapes his mouth before he starts to visibly breath heavier and wipes his hands on his pants. Woojin lifts his hands to rub at his temples roughly, eyes closed shut as if he’s trying to get something out of his mind.

“U-um, I’d better.. go..” He says slowly, Jihoon sees a slight shudder in his body before he picks up his bag and heads straight for the exit. Jihoon stares at the now empty spot in front of him in confusion. He’s not quite sure what just happened, all he knows is that the wounded expression on Woojin’s face was a lot less satisfying that he thought it would be.

there's no salvation
no hero dressed in white
just me wrapped up in darkness
and stripped of my light

It takes Woojin hours to fall asleep. Daehwi is on an air mattress next to his bed but he still feels so alone. A cloud of black smoke comes to taunt him, and this time it comes back with a voice—snide and scornful.

No one is going to forgive you. They’re all too good for you, you don’t deserve anyone. All you’ve done is run away, it's too late now.

There are things in his dream that seem so real, but he doesn’t remember any of it. He can’t recall much about his childhood, yet this particular dream seems to be screaming at him. Screaming at him to remember something. And there’s that voice again in his head but he can’t quite remember whose it is and why it’s so daunting.

“You know that boys don’t cry, Woojin. Don’t you remember what I told you? Only weak boys cry. Are you weak, Woojin?”

“N-no, I’m s-sorry..”

“What did I tell you about stuttering?! Speak properly! Now are you going to listen to me or are you gonna continue to be a disappointment?”

He tosses and turns, but the voice won’t stop. It gets louder and vicious, it’s tearing him apart and he doesn’t even know why.

“You’re the root of every problem, aren’t you Woojin?”

He feels like there are shards of glass being pressed hard against him, there’s a weird tingly sensation running through his body but he can’t quite wake himself up from the nightmare. The fear grows bigger and his heart is racing.

“Listen to me, Woojin! You are not going to grow up in this household if you date a boy. This is wrong, Woojin. You are wrong. Snap out of it! I didn’t raise you to be like this!”

Before a hand can come down on him he jolts up in his bed, in a disarray of emotions with a gasp so loud that it wakes up Daehwi. The cloud of smoke, still black and blood-curling, crawls up his spine and wraps unrelentingly around him, until he can’t remember what oxygen is and why he needs it. It digs its roots deep into his stomach, toxic, deadly, and ceaseless. He clutches at his chest, heaving for air and Daehwi rushes up to his side, frantically patting his back and asking him if he’s okay. He runs to get a glass of water and helps him drink. He whispers ‘deep breaths, deep breaths’ as he slowly manages to bring him back to his senses until he’s finally able to breathe evenly again.

There are tears streaming down his face and a rush of memories come flooding into his mind. Her face, her anger, her disappointment. The voice is his mother’s.  

“Hey, hey. Calm down it’s okay, you’re fine.” Daehwi whispers as he rubs circles on his back, his soothing voice is the only thing keeping Woojin relatively calm. “Do you wanna talk about it?” Woojin doesn’t want to tell him, he really doesn’t. But there’s only so much he can handle by himself and it won’t be long until he breaks completely.

“I— I’ve always hated myself. And everything I’ve ever done as a kid. But ever since I moved there’s been this hollow place in my mind that I could never seem to fill. It wasn’t sure if it was just the absence of useless memories or if they were actually important. But lately I’ve been remembering things that seem so real, but they’re things that I don’t remember happening before—“ His voice is shaky but Daehwi continues to listen thoughtfully—it breaks his heart.

“After the move I’ve never had much recollection of my time with my mother before she passed away. I was never sure why though, I remembered things that my dad had said to me, so I was confused about why I couldn’t remember much about my mother. I liked to believe she was a good person, up until now I really thought she was but—“ Woojin swallows down the lump in his throat, his eyes watering up again, “I think they’ve slowly been coming back to me and I think—I think she hated me.”

“What makes you say that?” Daehwi questions quietly. It’s so hard for Woojin to continue, especially when he knows all he’s gonna end on tonight is disappointment. From Daehwi, and then form everyone he’s ever loved and everyone who ever thought that they loved him. What was he thinking? He could never be loved—not by his parents, not by anyone.

“My memory has always been a little hazy, I couldn’t remember much about her for so long. But recently I think some memories that I may have repressed are coming back to me a-and I don’t know how to feel about this.. I really tried to make myself believe she loved me before she died and that she was only strict because she cared but—“

Then Woojin realizes how lacking his room is of any signs of her. He hadn't even thought about it, how he didn't have a single picture of him with his family placed on his desk or framed on his wall, not a single trace of her. How could he ever think that she loved him when there were no signs of him loving her?

His mind wanders back to his childhood, and it starts to make sense—why Woojin didn't have any memory of his mother.

Woojin was only 10 when he had first questioned his attraction towards other people. Crushes were hardly anything new by the seventh grade, he watched the people in his class ask each other to school dances all of the time. He never really thought about it before, but something about watching the couples at school dances intrigued him—he wondered when he’d come to feel that way about someone too.

He met a boy named Janghyun halfway into the seventh grade, and he liked him. He was cute and nice and he would always eat lunch with Woojin. They had spent most of their time together, playing video games and watching movies at Janghyun’s house. Woojin had started to think he was finally understanding what a crush felt like, and it sort of excited him.

His family had sat down for dinner one night, mostly in silence as per usual besides his parents asking him how he was doing in school.

“I made a new friend who I really like.” Woojin says with a smile.

“Oh, you’ve found a girl you like?”

“No, he’s a boy and he’s really nice and we play video games at his house a lot—“

He’d been interrupted by his mother, who was looking at him with narrowed eyes. “Wait, a boy? You mean you like him as a friend, right?”

Woojin’s face scrunched in confusion, wondering why it was easy for them to accept that he might have liked a girl but questioning his feelings when they found out it was a boy. “N-no, I don’t think so. I’m—“

“Go to your room.” His mother had placed her cutlery down, napkin wiping at and her face had suddenly turned cold.

“W-what?”

“I said go to your room! I’ll have a talk with you later.”

He wasn’t sure why he’d been sent to his room, he hadn’t even done anything wrong. It wasn’t like he was being rude or disrespectful, in fact, he thought his parents would be overjoyed that he was willing to share something like this to them. He wasn’t sure other kids would to talk to their parents about these sort of things. All he wanted to do was tell someone about the new fluttery feelings he was experiencing.

Woojin had sat on his bed anxiously, the look on his mother’s face was rather jarring—he’d always thought she was rather calm most of the time, barely graced with expression. But that night, he might have seen anger, and he couldn’t help but feel unsettled.

The door to his room opened and he fiddled with his fingers as his mother approached him slowly, kneeling on the ground in front of him.

“The joke you tried to pull at dinner today wasn’t very funny, Woojin.” His mother had said sternly. Woojin could only look at her in confusion.

“What do you mean? It wasn’t a joke..”

“It’s wrong, Woojin! You don’t know what you’re talking about! You’re too young to understand your feelings, you don’t like this boy! Do you hear me?” Woojin stayed quiet, tears forming and threatening to spill out.

“Do you hear me?!”

“Y-yes..” A tear had escaped as her yelling got louder. She had extended a hand to wipe it harshly off of his face.

“Boys don’t cry, remember that. You are not allowed to cry.” She stood up, towering over him and Woojin had started to fear her even more. “Now repeat after me: Boys only like girls.”

He didn’t want to, he knew what he was feeling and he wasn’t too young to understand it. He knew he liked Janghyun. Was there really something wrong with him?

“Are you even listening to me Woojin? I said repeat after me!”

Woojin gulped, picking at the skin near his index finger until he started to bleed. “But I do like him...”

“You’re so selfish! Are you not going to think about how this will affect your father and I? Everyone will make fun of you, they’ll call you disgusting. Do you even care about how we would feel?” He’d been so torn, maybe she was right. He was only thinking about himself, he had to think about his family. “Now say it.”

Woojin sniffled as he wiped the rest of his tears away, “B-boys only like girls.”

Woojin is finally at his breaking point, the last string he had been using to hold himself together had finally snapped. He lets the sobs choke out and buries his face into his hands, trembling in Daehwi’s arms. “She hated me. I-I was a horrible person and she hated me. And she was right I don’t— I don’t deserve to be loved. She told me everything I did was wrong and that I’m always the problem. I was selfish and I only cared about myself. All I am to everyone is a disappointment. All I am is a monster..”

You’re pathetic, a complete waste of space. No one cares about you, do everyone a favor and just disappear.

The voice in his head isn’t even his mother’s anymore, it’s just him. He’s all alone with the demon in his mind and he’s letting it convince him. It steals his peace of mind until there's nothing left but a grim cycle of hopelessness. Because hope is a closed door without a key, and now all it is is just a wall. His attempts to escape are useless, how do you even escape your own mind? 

“Don’t say that, Woojin!” Daehwi brings his face up to look at him, hands holding him up in all of his sorrow. “I know she might have been your family but if she treated you like that then you weren’t the one who was wrong, she was.”

“You don’t understand! You don’t know how—how terrible I was to someone back in middle school.” Woojin sobs into his hands. This is it, the moment he’s going to lose his best friend. “I was a bully, Daehwi. I picked on a kid because he was gay and everyone around me had constantly drilled into my brain that it was wrong and that people like him weren’t normal. T-they yelled at me and guilt-tripped me and ridiculed me until I finally agreed with them just to stop the threats. I thought that, maybe if I was a better son, my parents might love me. And so I tried—I tried to be the perfect son who ever only talked about girls and I forced myself to never stutter and never, ever cry. My stupid, vulnerable twelve-year-old self listened to everything the boys in my grade had told me about him. That he was different and that he was disgusting. And I believed them. I believe them because they said everything that my mother had said to me and so I followed their orders. But I ruined him. I—I outed him out to his father, Jihoon lost his family because of me! How did I ever think there wouldn’t have been consequences? I’m.. I’m a ing monster.. and that’s all I’ll ever be.”

There’s a long silence and Woojin can’t bear look at Daehwi but he knows the disappointment is there, he feels it. There’s only one way to deal with people like him and it’s to leave him to be a sad, miserable wreck for the rest of his life. Daehwi is gonna leave him, and Youngmin, and Donghyun. They’re all he has and now he'll have no one.

“Woojin, I know—I know that you think you deserve to beat yourself up about this, and it definitely was the wrong thing to do, but that was a long time ago. Your mother she was.. she was manipulating you. And so were those other boys. You didn’t deserve that either, you were under pressure and you didn’t know what else to do.”

Woojin sniffles, bringing his knees up to his chest to hug at his legs, the voice that comes out of his mouth is still wobbly and congested. “Doesn’t mean it makes it any less horrible..”

“No, it doesn’t.” Daehwi pauses, “But you know you were wrong, and you feel remorse, that’s more that a lot of bullies can bring themselves to do.”

Woojin hates this feeling, he’s so torn. He’s not sure how Daehwi even has the heart to comfort him after he’s told him every ugly thing about his past, he doesn’t deserve it. That’s all he can tell himself over and over again.

Daehwi continues when Woojin doesn’t speak, “You can’t change the past, but you what you can do is apologize. And it won’t have to matter whether he accepts it or not. Because at least you did it, and maybe it’s what you both need, to finally both move on.”

The sound that comes out of his mouth is supposed to be a laugh but it seems to be far from it, seeing the great deal of concern on Daehwi’s face. “How can you stand talking to me after I’ve told you the horrible things I’ve done..” He speaks quietly, voice hoarse from the sobbing and he’s way past the point of being a mess. He’s a complete eyesore in shambles, the biggest form of chaos.

And Daehwi does something even more unexpected. The younger wraps his arms around him, letting them both fall back onto his pillow and nuzzles his nose into his chest. The tears fall even harder it makes him lightheaded. Daehwi is hugging him when he should be doing anything but that. He should be yelling at him and criticizing him for being a horrible person, because that’s what everyone else had done to him growing up—so often that he doesn’t even know how to react when people don’t. How are you supposed to react to people showing you unconditional love even after you’ve bared all of your flaws and mistakes?

“I know who you are, Woojin. Who you were back then doesn't define who you are now and the person you’ll continue to be. You’re not the person you were back then. I know that, and everyone who loves you knows who you are.”

“You don’t hate me..?” Woojin asks slowly, hands still at his sides because he’s expecting Daehwi to retreat at any moment, and if Daehwi were to leave while he tried onto hold him, he thinks that would break his heart even more. Daehwi only continues to hug him tighter though, almost that Woojin can’t breathe for a bit because the younger is quite literally crushing his ribs and he doesn’t want to ruin the moment.

“Well, I’ve always hated you. But I think the love beats it out by just a little bit more.” Woojin finally allows his arms to relax around the younger, face resting in the comfort of his soft hair and the peacefulness of his quiet-breathing.

“I really, really don’t deserve you.” Woojin mumbles into his hair, his eyes feeling droopy and weighed down from the tears.

“Oh honey, no one does.”

Daehwi means so much to Woojin, more than he could ever put into words. And he'll never in this lifetime be able to thank him enough for the place he has in his life, and the people he introduced him to. His family had never truly felt like his family, just two people who were inconvenienced with his existence. But Daehwi, Youngmin, and Donghyun—they are his family. They’re his safe haven, a place to go to when everything feels wrong in the world. Youngmin is dad jokes, dance battles and play wrestling. Donghyun is home-cooked food, loving hugs and soft smiles. Daehwi is bickering and teasing, cozy and warm, and he feels like home.

And Woojin has never known a home, not until Daehwi.

He wakes up the next afternoon without Daehwi beside him, but he hears a few hushed voices near his desk. He sits up a little too quickly, that the headache hits him all at once.

“Oh hey, you’re awake.” He hears Donghyun’s mothering voice and feels the side of his bed sink down as the older sits on it. He blinks hard to regain his vision and watches as Donghyun opens a thermos and hands it to him.

“Donghyun made you your favorite soup, corn and crab.” Youngmin says from behind him, coming closer to run his fingers through Woojin’s fringe.

“What are you doing here?” He asks, voice still raspy from having just woken up. Donghyun grabs his hands and wraps them around the thermos, bringing it up to his lips. Woojin complies, gulping down the warmth of his favorite homemade soup that he didn’t know he had missed so much until now.

“Daehwi told us you were having a rough night.” Youngmin sits down too, voice more serious that Woojin is used to whenever the two are together. “We don’t know exactly what happened, but we’re here if you want to tell us about it. Don’t forget that we’re your family too, okay?”

“Yeah,” Donghyun pipes up, “Let it all out if you need to, we’re right here if you need us.”

“We let you sleep in and skip class for the day, but just this once, okay? This is the last time you’re allowed to miss school!”

“I went to your bio and psychology classes and asked around for today’s notes.” Youngmin pulls out his phone and shows him the pictures he had taken of a student’s notebook. “I’ll send them to you right now!” Woojin thinks that if wasn't all cried up, there would be tears streaming down his face again. Yet again he’s reminded of all of the love he’s surrounded by—something that was so foreign back when he was a child, he was practically drowning in right now. There’s only warmth and comfort. Woojin doesn’t need to see fire crackling in a fireplace, or listen to the television in the background or smell coffee brewing in the kitchen, he doesn’t need all of the things that make a house, all he has to do is listen to his friends’ voices and he’s home.

Youngmin had talked to at least eight different people that morning. He had stood outside of Woojin’s morning classes, waiting for the students to file out so he could bring one of the aside to ask if he could take pictures of their notes for Woojin. A few had rushed out of his grip, saying they needed to get to their next class. He was thankful when a girl finally stopped and lent him her notebook for a few minutes. He had done the same a couple hours later after his psychology class, being rejected by annoyed and probably sleep deprived kids before one of them was finally nice enough to comply (or maybe just too nice to walk away.)

He hadn’t known exactly why Woojin was in this state—Daehwi had texted him this morning telling him that Woojin wouldn’t be going to school today, that he had cried last night. And it doesn’t come as completely surprising to him, being that the boy had been quite snappy and closed off the last two weeks. So whatever it was, Youngmin knew that he had to give into Daehwi’s convincing and run around to try and help his friend catch up on everything he would miss.

“Youngmin!” A voice called out behind him. He turned around to see Ong Seongwoo, an acquaintance in his year, jogging up to him.

“Hey, Seongwoo. What’s up?”

“I was just wondering if you knew where Woojin has been the past month. His favorite burger misses him.” He chuckled, slightly out of breath. 

“Oh, has he not been to the diner recently?”

Seongwoo shook his head, “Nope. Not after the last time I saw him. He’d gotten into a fight—well not really a fight but there was some guy getting mad at him and he left in a hurry. Didn’t even stay to eat. I followed him out to check on him but when I caught up to him he was on a bench with his hand clutching at his chest. He was having a hard time breathing and I had to run and get him some water. It scared the hell out of me. So I just wanted to make sure he’s okay, after that had happened.”

That had been news to Youngmin. Woojin hadn’t told them about an argument in the diner that night, nor the fact that he was having trouble breathing shortly after. “Did you find out why he couldn’t breathe?”

“Looked like a panic attack to me,” Seongwoo paused, “Does he have a history of them?”

Youngmin’s brows knitted in thought, Woojin hadn’t told him about ever having any panic attacks. Maybe he’d just never witnessed one. ‘Not that I know of.”

‘Oh, well it’s good to find out just in case something like that happens again, you know.”

Youngmin nodded slowly, “Right.”

“Well, tell him that when he decides to stop by again his next meal is on me.” Seongwoo waved, “See ya!”

He knew that Woojin was never great at expressing his feelings, and even though he knew about the younger’s anxiety, he had never considered that he might be prone to anxiety attacks. His lips pursed tensely in concern. He called up Donghyun to check on how the cooking was going; they had both agreed to let Woojin stay in his room for the day but they didn’t want him being alone without a good meal. Woojin and Daehwi were really like their own kids, there’s nothing he wouldn’t do for them. Except maybe something illegal—but then again, Woojin had great persuasion skills and Youngmin was a tad bit gullible.

Wait, no, definitely nothing illegal. Him going around getting Woojin’s notes was probably the best they would get from him.

Woojin dreads having to see Jihoon the next day in the library, especially after their last meeting had triggered memories of his mother. He hates remembering the feeling of his lungs churning, his body trembling and the detachedness he felt from his surroundings as he walks towards their table. He hates the choking feeling he had gotten when Jihoon had uttered the same words his mother used to say to him. He had repressed those memories for so long, and in the span of a few weeks they all came rushing into his mind, feeding on his conscience and making him feel even guiltier than he already did. He thinks he much rather preferred the hollow pain to this crushing of his lungs as her face, her voice comes to mind.

He had only ever had panic attacks when he was in his own room, away from the judging eyes of others. But twice in the past two months had he been stopped in public because he felt so numb he couldn’t even stand. He hates being in the library, he just wants to stay home where no one can see him and where he can’t see anyone else.

And on top of it all, the guilt that hits him when he sees Jihoon and remembers every single thing that he had ever done to the boy is excruciating. It pains him even more now that he remembers that he was just like him. They were dealing with the same things but he had still made it so hard on him, he had broken him, he had taken him away from his home. He doesn’t think he could ever forgive himself for it, no matter how manipulated he was.

He always thought that he wanted to go back in time to fix his mistakes, to undo all of the bad that he did. But then he thinks that he never wants to experience that torture again, he might actually be selfish, but he's hurting too. 

Jihoon keeps his mouth shut when he sees Woojin walking towards their usual table. He had spent the entirety of the last two nights dwelling on why Woojin had looked so.. scared? He’s not even sure what exactly he had been feeling, but he knows it might have been his words that hit a soft spot. He doesn’t want to be sympathetic, but he can’t help it. And it’s a little distressing. It’s not like he wants to spend his entire night thinking about Woojin and what he might be going through. He sure as hell didn’t deserve even his pity after what had happened. Jihoon blames Donghan for being too gentle, he must have rubbed off on him over the years.

Not a single word is spoken for the next three hours, and it’s unnerving to Jihoon, more than he needs it to be. He needs to be focusing on putting together their slideshow that he had admittedly been slacking off on but he can’t when Woojin is right in front of him and is possibly still rattled by the night before. He looks so shattered; he looks exactly like him.

It’s ten minutes before their usual pack up time when he finally hears Woojin’s voice. “I’m..” Jihoon looks up and attempts to recoil from the split second of shock that crosses his features, “I’m sorry.”

His eyes widen and he doesn’t even try to hide it this time. Did he just apologize?

Woojin takes a deep breath before speaking again, “I know that this is the most overdue apology in like the history of apologies but.. it’s been on my conscience for the longest time and I can’t let it go on for any longer." The younger chews on his lip to the point where Jihoon can see a small trickle of blood, “I’m sorry for every time I had pushed you or used a derogatory term or laughed at you. Not letting you come out on your own terms was the tiest possible thing I could have ever done and it haunts me every day. I know I don’t deserve forgiveness, I’m far from even forgiving myself, but I just thought that you deserved to hear it.”

The silence in his pause is deafening and Jihoon holds his breath, “I was stupid and I let myself fall into the pressures of my family and of the kids at school and I should have been stronger than that. And it’s even worse because really, I was just like you. And you might not have wanted to hear that but it’s just a little.. unfathomable to me, that I knew how alike we were but I still found it in me to hurt you like that, especially after I had experienced it myself.

“I really wish I could make it up to you in some way, but I also know that you probably hate the sight of me and you don’t want anything to do with me after this project is done, so before we part ways soon, I really wanted to say this.”

Jihoon doesn’t stop him when he walks away, he doesn’t do anything. He just sits there, unmoving. There’s an annoying pang of his heart that isn’t quite physical but not fully metaphorical either. He despises it, the fact that Woojin had done the one thing Jihoon had never expected him to do—that he had never wanted him to do because all he wanted to do was hold Woojin accountable for everything bad that happened and continued to happen in his life, it’s the only thing keeping him from blaming himself for not allowing himself to be happy.

The thought only seems to affirm itself after he comes home after midnight with alcohol on his breath and Donghan is tired and aggravated.

“Why do you keep doing this to yourself? Are you really that unhappy?”

Jihoon giggles ironically, “When have I ever been happy?”

“That’s just it, Jihoon! My family and I have done everything we can for you! We’ve given you so much love and support, we tried so hard to become a new home for you, people who you could come to when you were sad and make you feel better. But you don’t seem to appreciate anything that we do anymore. Are we really not enough for you? Do you want to keep hurting?”

Only then does it really hit him. Does he relish in his sorrow? Does he enjoy the fact that there’s always someone worrying or caring about him as long as he continues to suffer? Now that he thinks about it, maybe Donghan is right. He had so many things to be grateful for. Even if he had lost his father all those years ago, he practically had a family who took him in without even being asked to, and they fed him and loved him and supported him. Had he ever thanked them for it? Had he ever really shown Donghan how much he appreciated everything he had done for him? He knows that Donghan tries so hard to keep him whole, but Jihoon starts to feel like maybe he’s the one knocking himself over again. Maybe he just wants to constantly relive the feeling of someone picking up the pieces and putting him back together.

Donghan tucks him in once again, sitting by his bedside like he always does, and Jihoon never says a thing. He hears the younger sigh, the exasperation is quite evident, “Do you want to be happy?”

He thinks about it. He thinks until it hurts and the only thing he can come up with is, “I don’t know how..”

There’s so much to be happy about but Jihoon still isn’t happy. And he hates that he doesn’t know why.