Jonghyun was freaking out. No, freaking out was an understatement. Jonghyun had gone positively insane. Face contorted into an expression of pure panic, he ran down the halls of backstage, opening random doors and yelling Taemin’s name. Every time he blinked, he saw the empty dancers’ room, the makeup fallen off the counter, imprinted onto the inside of his eyelids.

His heart beat against his chest, and he paused to lean against a wall, taking deep breaths in a futile attempt to calm himself. Eyes flicked around the room nervously, straining to find any sign, any sign at all of where the younger might have gone.

Maybe he was overreacting. Maybe the younger had just gone to the bathroom, or had wandered off with another dancer or something. Again, the abandoned room flashed before his eyes.

Jonghyun pulled out his phone for what felt like the millionth time since he noticed Taemin was gone, hitting call and hoping that Taemin would answer. When it once again went directly to voicemail, Jonghyun screamed and threw his phone, smashing it against the ground.

Guilt was eating away at him. He’d been given one job: keep Taemin safe. And now he didn’t know if the dancer was alive, much less safe. He knew he was jumping to conclusions, but the mess in the dressing room, combined with being unable to reach Taemin, led him to believe the worst.

He just hoped it wasn’t right.

“God dammit.” Jonghyun growled, running a hand anxiously through his pale blonde hair. He couldn’t have left Taemin alone for more than 10 minutes! How had this happened in such a short amount of time? If something bad really had happened to Taemin, how had no one noticed? He was positive Taemin would never go without a fight, but it was just as unlikely that no one would have noticed if he had been knocked unconscious and carried out. It just didn’t add up, nothing did.

“Jonghyun! What are you doing?” Jongin’s familiar voice interrupted the singer’s thoughts, and he shot up in excitement, hoping that by chance Taemin was with Jongin.

He wasn’t. Jongin was alone, and staring at him strangely. Jonghyun ran up to Jongin and grabbed his shoulders, startling the dancer.

“Jongin! Have you seen Taemin?” Jonghyun looked desperate, and fear struck Jongin.

“No. Why? What happened?”

“I don’t know. I saw him walk into the dressing room, but when I went over after changing, he was gone.”

“Gone like...going to the bathroom gone or... gone gone?”

“Gone gone.” Jongin paled.

“Are you sure? Maybe you mistook-”

“When I went in, all of the makeup had been smashed on the floor, and Taemin isn’t answering any of my calls.”

“You don’t think...” Jongin trailed off, but Jonghyun had a good idea of what would have followed.

“I don’t know, but I’m worried-” At that moment, Jongin’s phone rang shrilly, cutting off whatever the elder was about to say. Jongin fished it out of his pocket, his breath catching when he saw the caller ID.

“What, what is it? Who is it?” Jonghyun demanded.

“Onew.” Jongin revealed, looking frozen. He hit deny and shoved his phone back. He glanced  at Jonghyun, looking sad, scared, and upset.

“Oh hyung.” He sighed, biting his lip worriedly. “What are we going to tell Onew?”

Oh god. Jonghyun hadn’t thought that far along yet. Thinking of it now, Jonghyun felt terrified all over again, felt as if he was being sentenced to death.

How would he tell Onew?

“NOOO!” Onew’s scream of anguish was so loud it shook the windows. With another cry, he slammed his fist down onto the counter, the vibrations knocking coffee cups against each other.

“How..how did this happen?” He choked out, face turning red and twisted as he tried to hold back the tears that threatened to fall.

“We don’t know.” Jonghyun said quietly, guilt ridden. He had only seen Onew so upset once before: when he had walked into his brother’s hospital room five years ago. The only difference was then, the elder had looked so broken, Jonghyun was half sure he would fall to the ground in pieces. Now, he wasn’t broken so much as furious, anger coursing through his veins.

Jonghyun couldn’t understand the reaction, he had expected Onew to be upset, and worried, but not this angry. A bit frightened, he stepped back and raised his hands.

“Onew, calm down. Don’t worry, we’ll find him.”

Onew shook his head, fists clenched so tightly they were turning white.

“No. You won’t find him.”

Jonghyun cocked his head to the side in confusion. “How would you know that hyung?”

“Because. I’m almost positive I know what happened. If it’s true, I know who took him. I also know, if I’m right, we’ll never be able to find him.”

Jonghyun in a surprised breath as he realized what Onew was saying.

“You don’t mean...”

Onew nodded.

It was dark. That was the first thing Taemin noticed upon opening his eyes, blinking a few times in confusion to make sure he hadn’t gone blind.

Something rough was wrapped around his left wrist, and after trailing his fingers along the length of it, he realized it was rope. He followed the length of it up past his head where it was tied around a strange shaped but somehow familiar object.

The room was almost pitch black, and he could only just make out the shapes of a chair in one corner, and a desk on the opposite wall of whatever he had been laying on. Shifting around more, Taemin found himself sinking into something soft, and realized it was a bed. With a growing suspicion, he felt around the edge of the bed, finding a small table with a lamp beside it. He waved his hand around the lamp until it bumped into a chain. With a firm tug, the room flooded with light, leaving Taemin to stare around at a nauseatingly familiar view. Deja vu sent his mind spiralling, his eyes blurring at the instant dizziness, and he thought back to the last thing he remembered.

“Miss me baby?”

Taemin fought the urge to scream and run, and instead stared Minho right down.

“Not the least bit baby.” Taemin sneered, though he felt more like crying. Why him, why now?

“You looked great out there tonight. Especially with those jeans, shirtless... I could barely hold myself back from jumping you onstage.”

Taemin didn’t want to hear this. Not from Minho at least. He should be hearing this from Onew, not Minho, anyone but Minho.

“What do you want Minho?” He snapped, trying to stay strong. He wasn’t a kid anymore. He wasn’t going to fall into Minho’s traps. Not this time.

“For you to come with me.” At that, Taemin faltered. What was going on?

“What...what are you talking about?” Taemin stuttered, real fear setting in.

“You’ve had your fun Taemin. Now it’s time to come home.” Minho replied calmly, starting towards the dancer. Taemin gasped at the words.

Suddenly, he saw himself not in the dressing room, but in front of a tiny, run down dance studio. He felt his mother’s hand gripping his arm tightly as her sickly sweet voice said, “You’ve had your fun Taemin. Now it’s time to come home.” He saw a fifteen year old Minho smirking at him from behind Mrs. Lee.

“No.” Taemin whispered. “No!” He said louder, reeling backwards, terror upon his face.

Why was this happening? How had Minho found him after all these years? More so, why did Minho even want to find him? He’d made it obvious years ago whose side he was on, and it hadn’t been Taemin’s. It had been... his mom’s. His mother, had she even watched Taemin, even tried giving him the benefit of the doubt? Since their encounter, he’d held onto a sliver of hope that his mother would at least see, if not her, then his dad, at least.

Now, he realized, feeling more betrayed than he should, she had never planned to give him a chance. Most likely, she hadn’t even waited until she had returned from their confrontation to call Minho and plan for this to happen. For Minho to take him back to them.

Taemin took another step back, hitting his back against the counter, the edge digging into his spine. He reached one hand out, blindly fumbling around the table for something to defend himself with, crying out in frustration when he found nothing but bottles of bb cream and eyeliner.

“It’s time to go Taemin.” Minho said, that same smirk distorting his face as he closed in on the younger.

Suddenly, he knew exactly where he was.

He was back home.