His legs shake as he moves up to the stand. He can do it if he doesn’t see the people he’s testifying against, if he focuses on Hongbin and Minki, and everybody else that cares for him. He puts his hand on the bible and gets sworn in, desperately praying to every God out there that might want to affirm that he was created for a reason. Now would be a good time to show him that they exist.

“Can you state your name and age?”                       

“Han Sanghyuk, I’m 16 years old.”                           

“This is according to…?”

“According to the country database. I do not have my birth certification with me physically today, Your Honor.”

“Alright, that’s no problem. You may be seated.” The Judge leans back in his chair and beckons the opposing lawyer. “You may begin.”

“Thank you, Your Honor.” The opposing lawyer strides up to the stand and looks dirtily at Sanghyuk. “Notwithstanding the fact that you are unable to produce an accurate age…”

“Objection!” Minki shouts.                                                      

“Sustained.” The Judge says in a low, no-nonsense voice. “Please note that the Court has granted leave, and Mr. Han has been sworn in. Proceed with questions directly pertaining to the case.”

“Apologies Your Honor,” The Judge gives Sanghyuk a little nod, and he feels a little more settled.  The questions are easy – things he practiced with Minki a hundred times over. There’s nothing they can really ask that can trip him up. The jury has seen the videos, and they’ve all seen how young he was when the first few ones were taped. He has them on their side for now.

But Jaehwan comes on stand, and the first question is something they’ve never pre-empted.

“Mr. Lee, would you say the videos that we have on evidence right now were all filmed without your consent?”

“Of course,” Jaehwan says firmly. “There were no contracts or negotiations.”

“So why,” The opposing lawyer brings up something on the screen. “Are you smiling throughout most of the videos?”

It’s clear to see. There are multiple screen grabs where Jaehwan is smiling through bloodied teeth, and a couple more where he almost looks like he’s… laughing.

Minki stuns, and starts flipping through his papers, while Jaehwan just looks at the pictures on the screen. There is a long silence, and the people sitting in on the trial are just about to generate their own buzz when Jaehwan speaks.

“I was drugged up.” Jaehwan looks squarely at the lawyer, breathing steadily. “My pupils are dilated, and my movements are uncoordinated. I’m sure if you watch closely the videos in which I’m smiling, you’ll see me sniffing, or you’ll see that my arms are marked.”

Minki gives Jaehwan a nod and a thumbs up. But the next question is another curveball.

“Were you really drugged?” The lawyer paces the floor, looking obnoxiously judgmental. “Or did you take the drugs of your own free will?”

Jaehwan visibly pales.

“My clients have submitted that you used to get high very regularly, on your own drugs and alcohol.” The lawyer says. “Will you please answer the question? Did my clients ever give you drugs?”

“N – No,” Jaehwan stammers, and he looks behind his shoulder to Minki for help.

“So you bought those drugs with the money that my client rewarded you with for your services, and returned every time?”

Minki tries to raise an objection, but the judge dismisses it. Their case for Jaehwan is unravelling by the second.

“So would you not agree that if you had not shown up intoxicated every time, you would have had more capacity to stop these shoots from happening?” The lawyer pauses. “Or should I say, if you had not been addicted in the first place, you would not have turned up to the shoots?”

Jaehwan balls his fists. “I never consented, I told you.”

“Please answer the question, Mr. Lee.” The lawyer stands firm. “If you had not desired the money to buy your own drugs, none of these videos would have happened?”

There is a long silence, then Jaehwan sinks down into his seat, heart dropping into his empty chest. “Yes.”

“No further questions, your Honor.”

Jaehwan gets off the stand like a puppy with his tail between his legs. He turns down the recess he’s offered and just sits stoically by himself, not looking at anyone for the duration of the trial.

***

Sanghyuk holds Jaehwan’s hand when the verdict is being read out.

“I forgive you.” Sanghyuk whispers.        

Jaehwan looks at him. “For what? For messing up today?”

“No,” Sanghyuk says. “Because I think you deserve to hear it more.”

Jaehwan doesn’t know what to say, so he doesn’t. He just grips Sanghyuk’s hand tighter.

***

The verdict? Mostly payment for damages.

No jail time for most of them, just fines. 2 months is the longest jail term meted out. No real punishments, nothing none of them can get over, just a slap on the wrist at most.

Minki buries his head in his hands; and his reaction is so fast that it is almost as if he had already known from the start. Minki’s hands shake so hard that Sanghyuk can see them from where he sits at the other end of the table. Hongbin doesn’t move, and Jaehwan has a small, unbelieving smile on his face. Sanghyuk turns around. Officer Park looks livid. He tries to breathe, tries to count the five things he can see, four things he can feel, three things he can hear, two things he can smell, one thing he can taste.

He sees the judges leaving the bench, robes swishing around their bodies, walking away with a certain dignity from never having to really make the rules in this world. He can see Hongbin looking at him with a worried look.

He feels the worry stone pressing against the side of his leg where it lies in his pocket. He feels the open sores from peeling at his fingers. He feels his mouth moving into a lopsided smile because he doesn’t know how else to react; how else to let Hongbin know that he’s okay – or that he’s really not okay, but he’ll deal with that later.

He hears an uproar behind him. He hears the defense counsel celebrating their win. He hears his past whooshing up towards him from the back, as if they have been forced into hiding for too long.

He can smell the leather of the courtroom acutely. He can smell the cigarettes that Jaehwan pull out of his pocket.

He can taste the mint on his tongue from gum, and if he pays close enough attention, he thinks he can taste literal dread.

He’s present in his body, but he doesn’t want to be. He doesn’t want to be ever again.

It doesn’t feel real – any of this. He’s stuck in an infinite loop. He tried so damn hard, for so many months, and it just seems like he’s back where he started. It’s so absurd, that he can do nothing but sit there with his hands folded. He reaches over to touch Minki on the shoulder.

“It’s okay, hyung.” He says, and flinches when Jaehwan gets up to go for a smoke. “Thank you.”

***

The anger and the sadness come in towering, confusing waves. The ringing of the verdict in his heart starts to dull down after a while, and it only really hits him when they’re starting to leave the courthouse that he had wanted something more. He hadn’t let himself believe in good endings, but now he realizes that he had hope for a better ending after all – anything better than this.

He wishes he could go back and do something more, but there’s nothing much left for him to gain. There’s nothing he can get back now that he hadn’t already lost forever.

The jury doesn’t hear about the nights of lost sleep, the true extent of humiliation when he realizes just how much he cannot function on a day-to-day basis. They don’t hear about the nights he wakes up Hongbin with his screams, about how he still cannot sit on furniture without expecting to be hit, about how the rest of his life is going to be distracted by the first 17 years of it. How, the nightmares, and the fear, and the mornings where he wakes up in a panic, are going to handicap him forever.

There’s no way that any amount of jail time can get that back from him and Jaehwan. So in a shameful, lonely way, Sanghyuk supposes that the verdict was right. All they can benefit from right now is money.

But when the press swarms him outside the court, asks “are you happy with the trial”, he suddenly gets so disappointed with that fact.

He wants to say: “I’m not happy but what can I do? I’ve exhausted my share of justice while they get to enjoy their life”. He wants to say: “ you.” even though he’s scared to say that out loud. He wants to say: “How can I even begin to be happy with the trial?” He wants to say: “10 years of abuse cannot possibly be distilled into a 12 hour court session.” He wants to say: “So what?” He wants to say: “You’re never going to know what it’s like. I can’t just get over what they did to me.” He wants to say: “Help me, help me. Please. Do me justice.”

But he doesn’t. He just pushes through the crowd with his head down, Jaehwan sticking close behind.

It’s Taekwoon who’s waiting in the car and as they drive away, Sanghyuk feels like the loneliest man in the world. There’s a new pain that embeds itself into his heart, and he doesn’t know how to express it.

As he stares out of the window and speeds past the world, he spirals into a deep, dark pit, head awash with a heavy rain of indescernible thoughts. It's so dark inside his own mind that he lets himself get into nothingness. When they get out of the car, he doesn’t know how to deal with the overwhelming amount of… just – disappointment, inside him. He’s hardly felt this particular emotion before. He hasn’t let himself set expectations for anything for so long.

“Hyuk-ah?” Taekwoon and Jaehwan ask worriedly as Sanghyuk shuffles out of the car. “Are you okay?”

“I’m okay,” Sanghyuk sighs. “Just please don’t touch me, please.”

Taekwoon moves out of the way, and Sanghyuk really appreciates the way Jaehwan and Taekwoon have so quickly smothered their concerned expressions. 

“Thanks.” Sanghyuk can’t trust his own body when his mind is like this. He’s already so sensitive to his surroundings that if someone makes contact, he thinks he would freak out. He doesn’t want to hurt them, or hurt himself.

They slowly walk across the parking lot and take the elevator up to Daewon’s house. The whole time, no one touches him. Even when they enter the house, Taekwoon quietly lets Nakhun and Daewon know that he doesn’t want anyone near him.

He thought he was done believing in people. But the more the world betrays him, the more he realizes that he can trust his own world.

When he climbs into the bed of one of Daewon’s rooms to sleep because he’s so overwhelmed, Taekwoon lays a weighted blanket over him and says, “You are so loved.”

The statement should make him stressed out with all its implications of reciprocation. Instead, Sanghyuk files it away in his cherished memories, which are now becoming quite plenty, and believes it, no matter how much this world has already disappointed him.

He sleeps. He doesn’t dream, but even if that’s going to be the rest of his life – it’s okay.

It will be okay.

The sequel to Ghost Boy will be out in December. See you all then :-)