Sungyeol woke up to the sound of his ringtone, blasting from somewhere under his pillows. With his mind and body still asleep, he searched for the device but gave up when whoever was calling hung up. He was just falling back to asleep when the new 5-member boy group Infinite’s song penetrated through the fibers of his pillow and travelled through Sungyeol’s ear.

He brought the phone up to his ear, eyes still closed. “Hello?”

“Sungyeol?” he heard Myungsoo whisper.

“What?” He rolled over, with his phone pressed against his face, but when he didn’t get a response from Myungsoo, he peeked through his eyelids and saw that he had accidentally hung up.

“Sungyeol!” Myungsoo yelled from his room.

Sungyeol groaned and rolled out of the comforts of his bed and pulled himself to Myungsoo’s room. “What?”

“I’m hungry.” Myungsoo was sitting up in his bed, pillows propping him up.

Sungyeol swore he felt daggers of lightning flying out from his eyes and boring holes in Myungsoo’s face. Or at least he hoped that was what was happening. “I’m going back to bed.”

“Wait,” Myungsoo whined. “I’m really hungry. I didn’t even eat dinner last night.”

“I offered to buy you something.” Sungyeol heard his phone ringing again from his room.

He picked up the call, ignoring Myungsoo’s continual whining in the background. “Hello?” He rubbed his temples and laid back down, which still didn’t help his growing headache. It was way too early for all this commotion.

“Glad you’re awake.” It was his father. He subconsciously stood up, standing erect and tall.

“I just woke up. Did you need something?”

“I need you, son. Will you come back?” He could almost hear his father tapping his fingers against his desk, a sign of impatience. Sungyeol heard the question more as, “I need you, son. Come back now.”

“Dad, we talked about this before. I don’t want to work for you. Ever.” His head was throbbing. Myungsoo padded into his room, still clad in his Mickey Mouse pajamas.

“I can’t do this without you.”

“You have plenty of people who are more than capable.”

“Sungyeol, I don’t want to ask you multiple—“

“I have to go. I’m busy. Bye.” And with that he hung up on his father, turning to Myungsoo with a smile both knew was as fake as unicorns. “What did you want to eat?”

Myungsoo carefully placed a hand on Sungyeol’s shoulder. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Sungyeol sighed. “I’m fine.”

---//---

Sungyeol wasn’t able to muster enough courage to run away from his dad after he had bloodied his hands for the first time. He lived the life of Lady Macbeth for weeks after, trying to wash his hands clean of the blood that didn’t exist.

His dad left him alone, but not without pressure. Every day, he would leave a voicemail (since Sungyeol wouldn’t pick up his calls) telling him how he hoped Sungyeol would be able to recuperate quickly and come to work soon. But that didn’t last for long.

One day, his dad barged into his room, pulling Sungyeol out of bed violently, and pushing him towards the bathroom. “Get ready. We’re leaving in 15 minutes.” He swore his dad was bipolar or something.

He wanted to protest and lock himself up back in his room, but he knew he wouldn’t receive the patience he did once. He already lost that chance.

By the time he got into the car, sitting in the tight space next to his father, the sun was just starting to peep out from the horizon. His parent passed Sungyeol a picture of whose face Sungyeol was to memorize before getting ready.

“He’s the next in line for the company.”

And that’s all that was said as he passed Sungyeol a gun. No questions. No excuses.

---//---

“I’m gay.”

It took about 3 seconds for Myungsoo’s parents to really process what he said, or that’s what Myungsoo thought because Myungsoo counted to 3 before he felt the full force of his father’s hand across his cheek. (It didn’t help that his father was a prominent wrestler before he started working his way up the ranks at the company he was now running.)

He heard his mother chastising her husband for hitting their son and acting irrationally as he left the house with the bag he had already packed before, having already predicted the outcome of his confession.

“Myungsoo, dear! Wait!” his mother called out as she ran out of the house to catch up to Myungsoo. (It also didn’t help that Myungsoo was one of the fastest sprinters at his school.)

“Where are you going?”

“I obviously can’t stay here. At least not for awhile.” He pulled his arm out of her grip, putting on a small smile for his caring parent.

“At least call, okay? You know your dad still loves you very much. Just give him some time.” She kissed his cheek softly before walking back to the house, looking back every now to see Myungsoo waving to her.

He pulled his phone out and scrolled through his contact list. “How is it that there’s no one to call from this long list of people?” he mumbled. He stopped when he saw ‘Howon’ and clicked the call button.

Ring ring ring. “Hello?” Myungsoo could tell Howon was dancing from the way he was breathing heavily from the other line.

“Hey, it’s me. Are you at the studio?”

“Yeah.”

“Can I come over?”

“Sure.”

“Okay. I’ll be there soon.” He hung up and made his way to the practice room he, Howon, and a couple others had been slaving their way through rigorous training period. At least he had someone and somewhere to run to.

If you don't get the set up, it's present, Sungyeol's past, and then Myungsoo's past. Oh, and if you don't get the Lady Macbeth reference basically she killed someone and was haunted for a long time because she kept seeing blood on her hands. (google it for a better explanation..)