Jongin;

Jongin pours everything he has into the things he loves - it’s a deadly flaw, but one he is proud of. Perhaps it’s naivety, or simply a lack of good judgement, but he doesn’t see tragedy unless it hits him straight in the face, all blunt force and obnoxious reminder of his failure. With every mistake a piece of his spirit chips off, but he remains hopeful. He tells himself that as long as he still has dancing, loud music pounding in his ears as his body flows through the room - his passion, his soul -  he will be fine.

When he loses his legs, he loses himself with them.

It’s morning, he can tell. His back aches in such familiarity that he turns his body to stand up. When he props himself up with his elbows and can’t feel anything below his lower torso, the blow comes hard - the floor is still so far below, and he has nothing to put on them. He gives up, a term that became far too familiar recently, and puts his head back on the pillow. There isn’t a point in waking up when there isn’t anywhere to go, anything to see, anyone to meet. He closes his eyes, welcoming the darkness that he wishes was permanent.

Taeyeon;

“You can’t be ing serious!”

Taeyeon merely blinks, staring blankly ahead as she meets her sister’s furious eyes. She knows her sister - knows the fury inside her, the pure hatred she holds. If she wasn’t smart enough, she would’ve killed Taeyeon a long time ago out of disgust. Taeyeon wonders what else she’ll have to do to piss off her sister enough to convince her to just kill her.

“You heard me,” Taeyeon says shortly, eyes narrowing just a little bit. “Do you need me to explain every detail to you?”

“How dare you?!” Her sister roars once more, standing up so abruptly that a cup gets knocked off the table, crashing into pieces. Taeyeon watches as one piece embeds itself in her foot, blood soon staining her slippers. She doesn’t bother taking the piece out, instead opting to glare.

“Calm down. You’re making a mess.”

Her sister looks down at her in a mixture of disbelief and revulsion. With a sigh, Taeyeon grabs her purse and stands up.

“Clearly you’re still too young to handle this matter like a mature adult.”

“I’m the immature one?” Her sister seeths, stepping forward, and Taeyeon finds herself looking down at the glass her sister is stepping on in alarm. She needs to stop her - needs to push her back because her feet is bleeding - and she knows that her sister will be too damn stubborn to actually bother bandaging the wound.

“I’m not the one who ing slept with her sister’s husband!”

Taeyeon’s head snaps up. It’s the first time her sister spoke of the incident. She almost feels proud for her sister finally moving past the initial step of denial, because surely that means she’s moving on - that she isn’t under as much pain as before, that she isn’t crying herself to sleep every night.

Hardening her gaze, she lifts her head up. “Don’t be pathetic, Hayeon. This is work. Keep it professional.”

“Was that why you let him you in your office?” Hayeon steps forward, and Taeyeon can’t help but pale at the thought that her sister is walking on a pile of glass, when suddenly she feels two strong grips on her shoulder that pushes her against the wall.

“You’re my sister, Taeyeon! I trusted you! I loved you!”

Taeyeon ignores the pang in her chest and swallows before meeting her sister’s teary eyes.

“And I loved him.”

Although she expects the slap, the pain is no less. She grimaces, wondering when her sister got so strong as to be able to hit so hard. Maybe it’s her fault - it probably is, she’s the one who ed up everything, after all.

Hayeon is now sobbing, legs crumbling to the ground as her body shakes uncontrollably. Taeyeon breaths heavily as she looks down at her, wondering if it’s possible someone could look so pathetic. She wants to wrap her arms around Hayeon’s shaking shoulder, but knows that is no longer a right she holds.

Hayeon peers up at her, and Taeyeon finally knows what pure devastation looks like.

“Why can’t you just say you’re sorry?” Hayeon manages to sob out, and for a moment she actually looks like she’ll be able to forgive. Taeyeon frowns at that.

“I’m not sorry, Hayeon,” Taeyeon snaps. “You can’t make me sorry for my actions. When you’re ready to talk, I’ll be back with the divorce files your soon to be ex-husband wanted you to sign.”

She catches Hayeon’s eyes go blank at the words, as if she was too much in shock to actually respond, and she takes that chance to quickly make her way to the door. She opens the door and steps out, but her eyes can’t help but waver back at the sister’s bleeding feet.

Taeyeon closes the door before she can say anything she actually means.

Sunggyu;

He hates being Korean. He hates it deeply, to his very core. He hates everything about this goddamn country and its self-destructive culture. He hates its hypocrisy and narrow-mindedness. They say hate is a strong word, but in Sunggyu’s case it doesn't even scrap the surface.

He doesn’t believe what he’s hearing. The tie around his neck feels like it’s suffocating him, and he would actually much rather prefer that. He doesn’t even have the energy to open his mouth, simply staring ahead as he watches the man in front of him babble on.

“-so, this election is a huge deal, I’m sure you know this already Mr.Kim. We’re all really excited to see the outcome. Of course politics in the 21st century is tough as it already is, but added to that the financial difficulty? It’s a horrendous time we live in!”

Sunggyu doesn’t even bother replying. He is just so damn pissed at everything, all senses of common courtesy and manners be damned.

“We really need to secure a position in the house party. It’s absolutely the only way we can get ahead, and frankly speaking-”

“Get to the point, Mr. Jung. I really don’t have a lot of time,” Sunggyu finally snaps with a deep frown. Although he can guess what this son of a has to say, he still wants to hear it before he bites the other guy’s head off.

Mr.Jung seems surprised but has the tact to hide it fairly quickly. He lets out an awkward laughter and sits up, and Sunggyu mentally barfs at the image in front of him. The man looks as ugly as he is inside.

“Well, the point is, I made one or two mistakes to become who I am today. Nothing big, I assure you, just things that I think will become a nuisance when it’s time for the elections.”

Sunggyu watches the man’s every move, daring him to continue, but Mr. Jung remains oblivious as he reaches down to bring up a rather hefty shopping bag.

“Let’s think of this as a mutual agreement, shall we?” Mr.Jung gives him a cheeky smile. “I give you this, and you give me a leeway. Erase those documents from my official records. How does that sound?”

The smile on the man’s face is so obnoxious and revolting Sunggyu has to physically keep himself from reaching over and clawing his face. He’s a civilized, educated man, after all - he will do this the intelligent way.

Sunggyu simply raises his hand, gesturing for the bag. Mr. Jung hands it over with a very smug look, leaning back in his chair looking accomplished and proud. Sunggyu peers inside the bag and lets out a loud whistle at the sheer amount of envelopes.

“This is really quite generous,” Sunggyu states and looks up, meeting the man’s eyes. “What exactly is in your records, Mr. Jung?”

Mr. Jung, who seems sure that this is a done deal, taps the desk in an arrogant manner as he smirks.

“It’s all a misunderstanding, but I was accused of child molestation. Can you believe it? Me? As if I would stoop to touch some child when I can get any girl I want. I wasn’t actually charged, it was someone else, but still. Evidence of trial remains because I was what they called a ‘prime suspect’. Justice in Korea is horrific, in my opinion. No offense to you.”

Sunggyu feels his jaw tighten and slowly slams the shopping bag back on the table.

“I’ll be honest with you, Mr.Jung,” Sunggyu says matter-of-factly. “I can believe it. Your face screams e, quite frankly. It seems that even without that official record people will naturally come to that conclusion.”

Mr. Jung turns an almost inhuman shade of red. “How dare you-”

“I’m an esteemed prosecutor of South Korea, Mr. Jung, I will not stoop to your dirty political games and wipe your for dirt money. I do fine on my own. I will make sure that the whole world knows about this ‘incident’ of yours, and the public can decide whether or not it really is a misunderstanding.”

Sunggyu stands up and shoots the other a disgusted look, ignoring his threats and insults as he walks out the cafe.

“I’m home,” Sunggyu mutters as he walks in. He doesn’t hear a reply and goes into the livingroom to see his mom sitting down on the couch with a disappointed scowl heading his direction.

“Is something actually wrong or are you just generally in a bad mood?” Sunggyu asks, leaning against the wall. He is much too tired for a proper conversation, and his mother definitely looks like she is going to keep him standing for at least another half hour.

His mother glares up at him, and beneath all the makeup, expensive jewelry, and luxurious clothing, Sunggyu faintly remembers a loving mother.

“I got a rather unpleasant phone call today,” his mother says, and Sunggyu an eyebrow in response.