warning: homophobic slurs

The city is ugly during the daytime. It’s all gray and dull, and a haze of dust covers the skyline. It’s not half as glamorous as the night view, and Andy almost regrets coming up here. Cold wind blows through, lifting Andy’s hair. His fingers itch to bring out the cigarettes, but it’s not beautiful enough for a smoke, and he doesn’t want to ruin the image even further.

Soft footsteps sound behind him, and he and lets out a small huff. Andy could recognize Hyesung’s gait from anywhere, and only Hyesung would have such quiet steps. He turns to greet him, and a smile spreads across Hyesung’s face (it intoxicates him, just like that sweet scent of cigarettes that he always associates with him).

“What, missed me?” He doesn’t wait for an answer, walking past Andy to lean over the railing, taking a deep breath. “I missed you too, Andy.”

It’snotworthitit’snotworthitit’snotworthit, Andy’s brain whispers as his heart twinges painfully. His breath stops for a fleeting second as Hyesung smiles again, lighting up the dismal sky. Time slows down, and for one second, the daytime city might not be so bad, but then Hyesung turns away, and Andy loses his hold on that beautiful brightness.

Hyesung’s hair blows, and he narrows his eyes against the late autumn wind. They stand in silence, watching the lines of cars on the highway pass by and the occasional bird under the sky fly past and the barely-distinguishable clouds covering the sun roll far.

“It’s beautiful,” Hyesung says suddenly, startling Andy out of a peaceful reverie. “Right now, right here.”

Andy can’t believe it. “It’s so ugly,” he blurts out, gesturing wildly in disbelief. “It’s so-- so gray and, and dull, and loud.”

It’s funny how things work out, that the one who shines the brightest would prefer the daytime, and the one whose entire presence is tainted would prefer the night. Hyesung chuckles softly, briefly places his hand on Andy’s waist, and leaves.

But Andy stays. He denies his heart the urge of following his starlight and stays submerged in the thick, muggy air of the daytime city. Noise floats up from down below, people fighting, cars honking, a muddle of chaos, and Andy finds it ironic how the bright and clear daytime becomes a mass of corruption and dirtiness. By contrast, though it hides a flourishing community of crime, the darkness of the night seems much more pure and clean.

The irony makes the sky even grayer, and Andy lets out a bitter scoff. There seems to be some sort of fight happening at the foot of the building. He watches for a bit, but both fighters are obviously inexperienced, and Andy loses interest. It makes no difference to him, who wins and who loses.

***

He hears Minwoo before he even sees him. Andy freezes, foot poised above the last metal step of the staircase. Judging from Minwoo’s tone, he’s very angry. Andy’s not even surprised; the man’s always mad about something. But then he hears his name, and Andy slowly turns around, carefully walks back up the stairs, and leans down to eavesdrop.

“He’s going to defect, I’m telling you!” Minwoo hisses. Andy hears the rustle of fabric on the wall and has a sneaking suspicion of who the other person is. “Torture makes him ing sick, as if he hasn’t been through training or done it himself before!”

The other person speaks, and Andy’s mind goes blank. As he’d expected, Minwoo is talking to Hyesung. Minwoo is talking to Hyesung about him, about his recent unnaturalness, about his suspicious behavior. He really had been too obvious, hadn’t he?

Andy forces himself to tune back into the conversation and barely manages to hear, “-ryone has an existential crisis at some point, it doesn’t mean they’re going to leave.”

“He’s a ing !”

It’s like a punch to his chest. Andy’s lungs crumple like a paper sack, his knees weaken, and he feels like he’s suffocating, a fish out of water. Tears prick at his eyes, and he wheezes, trying to draw in any semblance of a breath. His gasps echo in his ears, impossibly loud. He’s going to be found out, he’s going to be exposed, Minwoo is going to murder him, he is going to die--

But then Hyesung’s voice rises above the panic, drowning out the noise in his brain. “He’s just a kid, he’s confused, you need to give him time. Weren’t we all like that at some point? Just cut him some slack, man.”

A sharp crack resounds through the hallway, echoing within the building, and time seems to stand still. Everything falls silent, even the background noise of the city, and it feels like life has suspended. Then, someone lets out a breath, and the tension breaks.

“Sorry, man.” Minwoo sounds genuinely apologetic. Hyesung responds noncommittally, and their voices fade, turning into whispers carried away by the wind.

***

The worst part of it all is that Andy can’t find a single way to refute Minwoo, to tell him that he’s wrong, to win back some of his lost pride. No, all of Minwoo’s words are true. Andy is a , and the truth hurts him more than the hate.

He spends the night on the rooftop, shivering in the relentless wind. Cigarette butts litter the concrete floor around him, and when Andy wakes up, curled uncomfortably in a corner, Hyesung is sitting on the wall, kicking his heels against the concrete. The sickly-sweet smell of nicotine drifts its way down to Andy, and he pulls himself up, feeling his stiff body crack and pop. Hyesung doesn’t move, only takes another drag of his nearly-finished cigarette.

“Why?” Andy’s voice is croaky, his throat dry with sleep. “Why did you have to stand up for me? He slapped you.”

Hyesung doesn’t respond at first, looking out at the city, all ablaze and glittering with sunrise gold. “You’ll die if they catch you.” He slips off the wall and, without even so much as glancing at Andy, disappears through the small doorway.

It leaves him hurting, wanting to scream and throw something off the side of the building, only to watch it shatter on the pavement below. Andy wants to hurl his feelings away, fling everything into the sky and watch it all fall to pieces, but he can’t.

He can’t, because he’ll die, and then Hyesung will die too, and Andy doesn’t think he’d be able to stand that, dead or alive.