The empty space in front of him frightens Kyungsoo. The marble white floor makes his sneakers squeak and he shuffles uncomfortably.

 

This was all a hunch. One specific tanned boy’s back hunch to be more specific. Kyungsoo walked behind the boy who looked as if the whole world rested on his shoulders with a cautiousness, one used by someone who knows what they are doing is wrong, but are too curious to care. The boy wanders into a coffee shop and puts on a uniform. He slips on a nametag.

Jongin it says. Kyungsoo’s not sure why but the name conjures a memory so strong it has Kyungsoo almost dizzy in memory.

Fear is the main emotion. It happens like a dream, and before he knows it he is faint and his legs are sagging beneath him. He feels a cold pair of arms, from walking in the winter cold without anything but a flimsy T-shirt, catch him. Looking up, he sees Jongin and his hard gaze makes Kyungsoo shiver once again.

‘Come to 18^th if you want to know more’ Jongin says.

 

It’s not hard for Kyungsoo to know what 18^th is. There is only one street that Jongin could possibly be talking about.

It is known for its mysteriousness. At night, teenage boys challenge each other to sneak past the line of security guards but even the most courageous end up with a blackened eye in the day. Normally, people would link this to a conspiracy. But in this year people have survived in their happiest state for more than 500 years, and no-one seems to care anymore.

For some reason, Kyungsoo finds he cares a little bit more than the rest.

 

He doesn’t know how he is going to get into the building but frankly he doesn’t much care.  He walks up to the line of guards and they part. Kyungsoo thinks it shoudn’t be this easy.

 

The doors have no numbers but Kyungsoo instinctively stops by one particular door. He enters, and he is sure this is the 18^th. He as sure as if he had walked along this street and into this building every day of his life for the last 21 years.

 

The guard looks up, a bored expression on his face. The elevators open even though no-one has moved a muscle. Kyungsoo would think that they were automated if the guard’s face didn’t have a sly smirk.

‘Luhan, nice to meet you.’ Luhan extends a hand. Kyungsoo is reluctant to take it. Luhan looks like the time of person who is angelically faced but in fact a sociopath. Kyungsoo knows he’s right the minute he goes against his better judgement and shakes the hand.

Luhan’s grip is so deathly tight Kyungsoo thinks anyone else’s hand would have been crushed.

Luhan frowns for a split second but then takes away his hand. Kyungsoo wants to shake his hand and release the stiff cramped up joints but he knows that is the wrong move.

‘Welcome to the club.’ Luhan says, and takes out a long pointed needle. Fear wells in Kyungsoo, but as always his curiousity wins. He offers his arm.

‘No.’ Luhan grins impishly and swiftly swivels Kyungsoo round , his breath ghosting over his neck.

Luhan, without even so much as a glance, shoves the needle into Kyungsoo’s Adam’s Apple.

It hurts so badly, Kyungsoo’s body just wants to die. That is the main reason he doesn’t cry. But strangely one thought is on his mind over this, he knows that Luhan could have put the needle anywhere. He chose the most painful part. Luhan removes the needle, and Kyungsoo can tell he has purposefully blunted the end so the procedure hurts more.

His neck is bleeding, but Kyungsoo couldn’t care less. He walks carefully, fully aware of Luhan’s predatory gaze on his back. He wants to run, but he doesn't.

 

He cannot show he is weak.

 

 

 

Standing calmly in the elevator, Kyungsoo presses the 15^th floor. He knows.

The injection sends clear memories rushing to his head this time.

He was a development, a manufactured prototype. He learnt to train, he got operations. And at the end they deemed him a success. Unlike the failed ones, who just got killed they asked him if he wanted to go or stay. Just another form of torture. Stay and suffer. Go, and constantly feel out of place, feel a nagging thought that you can’t quite put a finger on. Have false memories but no false home. He also remembers the pained look on Jongin’s face when he opted for go.

 

 

 

 

He doesn’t know why, but he feels as if it was his worst decision yet.