19^th Century

                The feeling of being watched by thousands of people was unrivaled.

                The sound of just as many voices, shouting upwards was even more so.

                A person's sense of self-importance was unbridled when standing out on the balcony—or the ledge, as he preferred to call it.

                There were hordes of faces all squeezed together like gathered grapes set to be crushed. Their screams reached his ears a second later.

                To indifferent parents, this was nothing out of the ordinary. This was their people paying homage to the monarch that cared for them. This was the way of life—what would be unordinary is their silence.

                But this was special.

                That was dangerous.

                "Hello," he whispered, tears rushing to brim his eyes, knowing they could not hear him.

                They loved him just the same.

                Whether they knew his heart or not, they loved him blindly.

                "Come back from the edge," his keeper scolded from behind, a crooked arm held out.

                Lips curled, his small mouth spreading in a sinuous smile. "No."

                Instead, the thick sole of his riding boot landed on the stone lip of the ledge, his back leg bending slightly before hoisting him up.

                Teetering, the collective gasp below steadied his flailing arms and there was a zen-like moment where he was completely still.

                "Your highness—"

                "What do you think you're doing?!"

                The madness that came with being the most powerful youth in your world was not easily controlled.

                But as the wind blew through his dark hair, the tips of each strand tickling his pink cheeks, it was not insanity that had him watching the sea of people below. It was not an egotistical nature that made his decision reckless.

                "Where do you find exhilaration when nothing is beyond your reach?" he asked no one in particular.

                The crowd begged him to step back. His parents implored this behavior to cease at once. His keeper lost his mind—boiling as unintelligible words spilled from his cracked, aged lips.

                "How do you live when the only time you can truly feel is at death's door?"

                The noise bled out of his mind, eyes raising to the powder blue sky. A cloud was close, arms switching position as he raised a hand to it.

                "What is the point?"

                "Come down so we may discuss such a notion."

                That voice, light and sensitive, carried in the breeze. It was immediately hushed, pushed further back into the recesses of the castle.

                The arch of his foot twisted against the stone as he looked back over his shoulder, gaze catching the naturally fine eyes of his personal guard. Breathing in the same air as the other, he narrowed his gaze in an affectionate glare.

                "Perhaps in another life."

                Leg swinging forward, the blood curdling scream from a woman swept past him, noise suspended as his final step was hundreds of feet below him, eyes slipping close from the drop. The single pound of his heart was the last thing he felt before the white of the world went dark.

Present Day

                Sanghyuk's eyes opened—not forcefully but unnaturally fast. His vision, normally fuzzy upon morning, was clear as day.

                And there was a moment of panic.

                He wasn't breathing.

                Opening his mouth in a desperate attempt, he suddenly realized his arms wouldn't move, couldn't come to his own rescue as his brow knit from the effort. His chest hiccupped in response, eyes starting to loll backwards, his view rolling with it.

                A half beat—a hollow, blood rushing beat of his heart echoed amongst his struggle and suddenly cold rushed to fill in the channels throughout his body.

                Another thump finally came as the scene replayed itself, lips starting to tingle before a harrowing cyclone of oxygen entered his diaphragm and the gasp that followed jerked his entire body up, sheets pooling around his waist.

                Tears flooded his vision, blurred now and it was caustic, the soft flesh of his throat burning, his mind singed from the lactic acid built upon his lungs.

                Hands, now working, grabbed at his heart with curled fingers, clawing at the middle of his chest as if opening it would alleviate any pressure. But the anxiety was slowly subsiding as the air was leaving his mouth and just as quickly, flooding back into his system.

                He could breathe.

                Wasn't falling.

                Wasn't about to die.

                Wasn't saying goodbye.

                He could breathe again.

                Noticing the quivering of his muscles, he blinked at his hands that now lay still over his heart.

                A light beat.

                Pause.

                Nothing.

                This wasn't real. He was still dreaming, he convinced himself. No heart ever beat in a single thump. It wasn't humanly possible.

                Yet…

                Palms pressing into his sternum, he squeezed his eyes shut, small tears leaking from the corners. He listened hard.

                Another barely there beat.

                Slapping a hand into his throat, Sanghyuk breathed in deeply.

                Nothing.

                Brow furrowing, lips curving into a deep frown, he waited.

                Nothing.

                Nothing.

                Nothing.

                A half beat.

Chapter 2 will be posted tomorrow :) I hope you enjoyed the introduction! Let me know what you think so far <3