"Someday, everything will make perfect sense. So for now, laugh at the confusion, smile through the tears, be strong and keep reminding yourself that everything happens for a reason."

Chapter Five

Unknown Location, 1:32 a.m

January 3

Absolutely nothing.

That's the first thing Yesung manages to register when he comes to, mind a botched mess of confusion and pain and the throbbing and heaviness over his head equivalent to that of a bowling ball. He's lacking practically all his main senses, his only saving grace being his poor, but working, sense of smell, that of which only seems to pick up the bad odors around the singer. Yesung doesn't know exactly what to call what this is he's smelling; a foul, putrid stench that's equal to that of a rotten corpse. He tries not to imagine such a scene, but with all other main senses seemingly shut off, it's best to assume he's nowhere good, and especially nowhere near the dorms anymore.

His mind is still a cluttered mess of flashbacks and memories from earlier- is it even the same day? God, he wishes he could tell...-, that night's events still registering in his mind. He remembers getting back to the dorms, setting his bags down, then being faced with the worst nightmare of his life. If only it was just a bad nightmare. A really really bad nightmare that results in waking up hyperventilating, sweating like crazy, scared less. s would run in to make sure the singer is okay, and Yesung would fall back asleep in the comforting arms of those he holds dearest. The nightmare would be a thing of the past, and Yesung would move on.

But no, this nightmare is very real. Yesung isn't going to be able to wake up in a cold sweat and realize it was all fake, nor will he be able to get the comfort from s that he's longing so much for now. He's stuck, trapped in some unknown location with no sense of sight, hearing, or speech and no way of getting away. 

His nose is still only picking up the putrid stench, though he has become more familiar with the smell after inhaling it for so long. He tries to move his limbs once again, believing that by now he has to have at least a little function over his body. But alas, as he tries to pull his arms away from his sides, they just won't budge. He felt a lit pressure over his body as he was trying to move, making him believe without a doubt he's tied up or restrained in some way.

That's just great.

He wonders why his kidnappers would go to the extreme to tie him up to the extent he is - Yesung can't really tell, but from the way the ropes feel, he has to have it around his arms, legs, and abdomen; it's not like he's much of a threat. A 100-some pound, lanky guy against what Yesung can only assume as menacing beasts. He knows he hasn't seen anyone since he woke up, but it's still right to assume whoever took him are going to be on the more muscular side. It's only fair to assume because at the moment Yesung is completely clueless about anything. He just wishes something would happen; someone to enter the room, Yesung to get untied, hell... maybe even released from this place. He can only hope, even though he knows it won't happen-that much he can tell.

Time passes; agonizingly long seconds turn to agonizingly long minutes of nothing happening and Yesung would almost allow himself to believe he's actually dead, if not for the stench still filling his nostrils and keeping him grounded.

It seems like forever before he hears a loud muffled noise-thanks to whatever it is covering his ears-come from somewhere to his right. Seconds later there are two large hands grabbing ahold of his upper torso and lifting him, Yesung too frightened to even fight against the sudden physical contact. Moments later he's roughly thrown down onto yet another hard surface, but this time Yesung can tell from the way it feels along his body that he has been placed on a wooden chair.

Yesung's fight is still seemingly lost within the deepest reaches of his body, for the idol doesn't react when he feels hands return, this time messing with the rope tied tightly around his skinny legs. It's not until another pair of hands show up and start unwrapping the rope around his torso that Yesung finds his fight, the singer using his now loose upper body to push as hard as he can, in his current condition, against the man untieing hid torso. His legs, almost automatically, kick against the man at his legs and Yesung takes this as the opportunity he has been waiting for forever, springing up from the wooden chair. He's not even up for a few seconds, mostly due to the sudden change in position after being tied up for so long, before a strong pair of arms are wrapped tightly around his body, and that's not even mentioning his still lacking sight and hearing.

He tries with all his might to fight against the person's strong hold but he fails miserably, and Yesung finds himself being thrown back down onto the wooden chair he just escaped from. The two are quick to retie Yesung to the chair, not allowing for any more mishaps to occur, and the idol is left wincing at the sharp pain that shoots through his body each time he moves, the pain even occurring each time he releases a breath. They made sure Yesung isn't going anywhere anytime soon and he can't blame them. After his little stunt, his kidnapper, or rather kidnappers, are going to wanna be sure their hostage isn't going to escape. Yesung releases a heavy sigh when he realizes that was probably the only chance he's going to get to escape, but grimaces in pain when the ropes dig deeper into his flesh.

When it seems like the nothingness is going to return-Yesung isn't sure if the two left the room after finishing their job or are just standing somewhere nearby-the blindfold and gap are pulled off Yesung's face, and the singer is left squinting and head turned sharply away from the bright light placed directly in front of him. It takes a few moments but Yesung's eyes eventually adjust; he turns his head slowly to face front, eyes landing on a form Yesung knows all too well. The man that broke into the dorm and attacked Yesung. The man that made Yesung's life a living nightmare.

The two only stare at each other for however long, the young man smiling maniacally at the idol as he fiddles with a small coin between his fingers and Yesung can only shrink back into himself because of the threatening look. It's the man that finally breaks the heavy silence.

"Sorry my men were so rough with you dearie, but you were the one that tried escaping. You forced that onto yourself, just like you did before back at the dorm."

The man's calming voice disappears, replaced by one Yesung can only describe as pure rage and hatred.

"Don't do it again, or you'll get a lot worse than a pistol to the head. Don't detest... show another sign of rebellion and I'll break every finger on your left hand. Show me and my men the respect we deserve and I'll return the gesture with as little pain as possible, do we understand each other dearie?"

As the man speaks, Yesung almost allows a laugh to escape his clenched lips when he speaks of 'the respect they deserve'; like this maniac and his men deserve any form of respect from Yesung, they're all just monsters.

Yesung holds back the laugh from escaping but fails to surpass the grin that appears on his face. It catches the man's eyes immediately. His kidnapper stands and strides towards Yesung in one graceful motion, the singer unprepared for the hand to harshly grab his head, gripping tightly around his jawbone and forearm pressed roughly against his throat.

"What was that, a grin I saw? What did I just tell you about respect, cause you aren't getting off to a very good start boy!" The man's hold on Yesung's jaw is suffocating, the arm pressing too hard against Yesung's throat. he can only manage strangled, short breath with his current position, and after a few long seconds, the man finally releases his hold on Yesung's head. The singer automatically leans forward, an attempt to regain as much lost air as possible. It takes a few minutes of raspy coughs and gasps for air to get his breathing under control, the man watching the entire scene from afar like a hawk.

When Yesung shakily leans back up, his eyes land on the man's and he has to do a double-take when he sees what appears as worry in the man's eyes. But when he looks back, the worry is gone, replaced with the man's original grin and eyes now filled with lust.

"So I guess you still have some spunk left in you, but no matter... I'll have this side of you gone in no time. Soon, this fight will no longer be a thing, and you will be at my beck and call, willing to do anything for your master." the man practically purrs, making Yesung shrink back into himself from fear.

"Now repeat after me: I'll never disrespect you ever again, nor will I ever talk back when given orders. I'm sorry master." Yesung's eyes widen out of surprise; hearing what this monster wants the singer to say is revolting, to say the least, and Yesung doesn't even know if he'll be able to get the words out. Doing this, bending to the man's will, would be the same as Yesung giving up here and now. Giving up his freedom.

He can tell the man means business, he clearly isn't scared to get physical when the situation calls for it, but Yesung knows what giving into this man means. He'll be pushed around carelessly, the man using Yesung for anything and everything he wants. And with how many times Yesung has spotted the man's eyes filled with that disgusting lust and desire, the singer fears for his sanity. But in the end, Yesung is in no position to fight back; the man-made that very clear.

After time goes on and Yesung fails to respond, the man takes it upon himself to get a reply from the idol. He walks to the chair he was seated in earlier and roughly kicks it forward, the wooden chair only stopping mere centimeters away from Yesung's legs. The singer's entire body goes rigid as the man takes his seat, slipping a small pistol out of his waistband on his way down. He doesn't hesitate to place the pistol's end against Yesung's ghostly white forehead, the blood throughout his entire body having run cold a while back, the singer's eyes widening in fear.

The man's haunting smile returns, his finger running over the side of the gun to unlock the safety.

"Repeat me Yesung, or I'll blow a hole through your head. 

Yesung releases a shaky breath and eyes begin to well with tears as he starts speaking just barely over a whisper, his eyes never leaving the gun pressed to his head.

"I-I wi-will never dis-disre-"

"Louder Yesung. Let me hear that wonderful voice of yours."

 The tears grow as Yesung's heart sinks to the pit of his stomach, the comments from the other finally starting to get to him.

"I wil-will ne-never dis-disrespect you ev-ever again... n-nor..."

"Nor what Yesungie?" The gun gets pressed harder against his forehead, the harsh metal digging into his skin.

"Nor wi-will I ever ta-talk ba-back when-when given ord-orders... I'm s-so... I-I can't!"

The man is clearly angry and he doesn't care to hide it as he presses the gun even harder into Yesung's forehead, the idol releasing a pained yelp when he feels the gun's metal break skin. A small stream of blood leaves the opening and trails down Yesung's face, stopped abruptly by the man's finger, which catches the blood trail and allows it to land on his fingertip.

"Yes you can dear, it's one word. All you have to do is say it and this will all be over."

Yesung can feel the tears threatening to spill out of his eyes, the idol close to incapable of holding the salty tears back any longer.

Its just one word Yesung. Say it and it'll be over. The gun and the man will leave, you will be able to rest.

The small voice in his head is soothing; it brings Yesung back to a normal state of mind. He takes a large breath before directing his eyes straight for the man's, an attempt to show he isn't going to be broken this easily.

"I-I'm sorry... ma-master..."

The man's growing smile is far from reassuring; it's the embodiment of a psycho knowing he finally has his victim under his full control. But that's far from it, Yesung isn't going to give in that easily.

"Now that wasn't so hard, was it?" It's not a question to be answered, more so the man's statement to try and calm the singer, but Yesung isn't falling victim to the man's words.

At least it's over, and that's the only thing that got Yesung through the last few minutes. Yesung sits waiting for the man to stand to leave, but he stays planted to his chair. He had removed the gun from Yesung's head right when he finished speaking, as if anxious to hear that last word spoken so he could release his hold on the gun, and the idol can only sit through the burning pain from the small cut on his forehead. It may be small, but that doesn't mean it doesn't hurt.

The man tucks the gun back into its holster and brings his attention back to Yesung, placing a hand softly against the singer's face, right where the blood trail is.

"Let's stop being so formal with one another dear. No more Yesung or Jongwoon; those names are in the past. You will only ever be addressed by the names dear, honey, baby, or pet from here on out. It all depends on how I'm feeling."

Yesung shutters from the multiple nicknames; they're all disgusting. It doesn't seem to dawn on Yesung that this is just the man's first step in stripping Yesung of his identity, his sense of being. It may just be a simple change of name now, but that one small change can take a toll on the victim. Yesung is oblivious of what's to come.

"And even though it doesn't matter, I still would like you to know. My name's No Seungmin, but here, you will only ever call me master."

Yesung is left starting into Seungmin's eyes, the other slowly rubbing his cold hand along Yesung's cheek, smearing the little blood present in the process, and doesn't take his hand away until it seems he has had enough. Seungmin stands and walks towards the wall directly in front of Yesung, the singer now just noticing that presence of a small camera situated on a stand, his hand raised to his face. Yesung wonders what he's doing until the man turns back to face the idol and reveals the hand that was just on his face, the one with fingers and palm coated in blood, against his mouth, tongue gliding slowly along his fingers, the dark red liquid off his skin. 

Yesung wants to puke having to watch that man up his blood as if it's an ice cream cone, tears welling back up in his eyes. He had just managed to suppress the cries, but now he's not sure if he has the fight, nor energy to.

Yesung does nothing to stop the tears from falling, the warm salty substance quickly coating his face, trailing down until they reach his chin and drip off, landing onto his t-shirt below.

He's surprised that after some time Seungmin doesn't come over to 'comfort' the crying idol, having expected the man to be there in seconds to clean away the flowing tears.