Stuck. He’s the only one stuck.

Sometimes Wonshik is completely content with who he is and how he's living. Most people would probably look down their noses at him if they knew the truth, but when he was at his happiest, he really couldn’t care less about what others thought. He had parents who loved him, friends that cherished him, and hobbies to keep him busy.

Then there would come the times where the harsh reminders would slap him in the face. A friend would mention traveling abroad, another would talk about their new job. Wonshik was happy for them, he really was. There was just one thing to it that always added weight to the anchor chained to his ankle.

They were leaving him behind.

He didn’t understand the meaning of moving on, not really. He didn’t understand how someone was supposed to move on anyway – even if people held expectations for him, even if those expectations had been riding on his shoulders since he was a kid.

And just like that, he hated himself. He hated his breathing, his skin, his body. He hated his room, his notebooks, his computer, his video games. He hated that he was confined to these walls, and he hated that the only person that was jailing him was himself.

But he didn’t know what to do.

Even with the fact that the people around him were going places, that wasn’t enough to make him move. What would it take? What would finally be the last straw?

Maybe he was spoiled.

No, he was definitely spoiled.

He knew what to do. He knew what he needed to do, but for some goddamn reason, he just couldn’t bring himself to do it. What was it that was holding him back? Laziness? Fear? Or maybe he was just too young. Maybe he couldn’t handle it and he knew that he couldn’t, so he stuck to what he knew most – his way around words and the comfort he found in his computer, his constant companion.

That was so easy.

It was easy for him to lose himself in that – because he felt like there, maybe he could do something, maybe he actually meant something. But then when the people around him really were doing things . . . he wasn’t.

And he hated himself for that.

Still, all the hatred in the world would never get him to give up his crutch.

He didn’t want to do what was hard, what was scary. He needed ease, convenience.

Sometimes, maybe going along with what was easiest was fine too. Everyone else could leave him behind and he would move on like he always did.

It would be alright. Probably.