At twenty years old, Jeongguk never thought that he would make it far in life. Growing up, everyone around him always said that he would forever be a nobody—a waste of space. A bad person undeserving of anything good. Yet somehow, through eight years of torment, Jeongguk just barely pulls through.

The day that he's released from the confines of school uniforms and detentions he feels such immeasurable relief. His ribs no longer ache and blossom with bruises and for a brief moment, he feels like he can finally breathe. Maybe things are starting to look up.

Jeongguk's lucky enough to make it into Seoul University and his parents are absolutely overjoyed—call him their prodigal son. Getting into university is the most attention he's received in years from his own father and it feels good. Feels like he's gained the approval he's seeked for years. Finally. Finally.

It feels nice until Jeongguk says he wants to do music and his father is no longer smiling. Clenches his fingers tightly around the neck of a beer bottle and scoffs. "That kind of major will get you nowhere in life." And Jeongguk doesn't argue back because he knows what happens when he sticks up for himself. And being the coward that he is, Jeongguk suggests going into financing with a shaky smile. Just like that he gives up his dreams of making music and his father is happy again. Even calls him a genius. Says that he knew that Jeongguk would come around eventually.

And so, Jeongguk goes to college for business and financing even though he doesn't care about money. Doesn't care about numbers. Sure, he's nearly a straight A student but his heart isn't in it. It's back in Busan with his guitar and piano. Back where his fingers produced melodies and his mom always loved to listen. But here he feels empty. Always too empty.

Honestly, a naive part of Jeongguk had some hope that things would get better once he entered college. His mom had called it a fresh start for him to get his act together, for him to stop being such a problem child. But for people like him, things only get worse. Kids are cruel, but reality is crueler. While the whispers and rough hands of his childhood no longer follow him, university becomes a place of isolation for Jeongguk. His parents buy him a nice place off of campus. It's not too flashy but big enough for other kids to know that he comes from money.

His mom calls a few days later to ask how he's settling in, and Jeongguk laughs lightly down the receiver. Hopes that his voice doesn't sound too strained. "It's lovely, mom." He doesn't tell her that he hates it. That it's too big—so big that Jeongguk feels like he'll disappear. That there's a space in the living room where a piano could fit.

"This will be good for," she says. And then hesitantly, "maybe you'll meet a pretty girl."

Jeongguk feels himself deflate. "Yeah, maybe."

What about a boyfriend? He wants to ask but he doesn't because they're not supposed to talk about that kind of stuff. His father will be angry if they do.

He remembers the way his mom had cried whenever he was laid across the kitchen floor like a martyr. When his right eye was swollen shut. When he couldn't breathe.

Maybe he'll get a girlfriend.

It's a lot harder to make friends in college (not that he even tries) but Jeongguk finds himself feeling more invisible than ever. There's no one to shove him against lockers or humiliate him in front of twenty other peers, but no one acknowledges his existence either. He attends classes alone, eats lunch alone, and avoids any kind of social activities. When things get really bad Jeongguk thinks that maybe loneliness is worse than being beaten up. Because at least then, people acknowledged his existence, even if it was in some kind of fucked up way. At least he was being used for something.

Every morning before he leaves the sanctuary of his apartment, Jeongguk looks at himself in the bathroom mirror and smiles at his reflection. "You're okay Jeon Jeongguk," he tells himself. "You don't need anyone but yourself." He tries to tell himself that he's good at this: that pain doesn't bother him anymore. That he doesn't need friends because people are always so quick to turn on him once they see that his cup is half empty. Pain is okay. It's familiar. Comes naturally to him. He's okay. Jeongguk is used to this. He can deal with being alone.

And for the most part, Jeongguk thinks that he does a pretty good job at coping given his circumstances. So what if he's not pursuing the one thing in life that has ever brought him joy? His parents are happy and he's caused them enough trouble as it is. Jeongguk is good at coping. Until he isn't.

Until he's sitting in Starbucks doing homework—except he's not really doing homework because he's too busy watching a group of girls chatting happily a few tables away from him and he feels jealous; a want that stirs in his gut like please pay attention to me. I feel like I'm disappearing. But Jeongguk knows what happens to boys like him who don't know how to shut their mouths. Knows how to bite his tongue because his words are always a wasps nest and he's only ever good at hurting other people. And yet, a part of him still has the audacity to be selfish, to want more.

Jeongguk leaves pieces of himself everywhere and hopes that someone will notice and pick them up. Like frayed strings in the doorway. Like origamis hidden underneath his bed. Like torn envelopes—the scar on his cheek. The mole under his bottom lip. He sometimes wonders what it would be like if someone were to try and pick it all up—how deep it would cut, but he knows that he's not the kind of person that anyone wants to bleed for.

Sometimes girls like the ones sitting close to Jeongguk approach him and before they can even say anything, he's already shutting down. Pretty girls with round eyes, glossy lips, and soft hair. Pretty girls who ask him if he's single or if he wants to go out to see a movie, but all Jeongguk can do is shake. He opens the palm of his hands and sees the ugliness in between each crease and he can't—he can't. He always says no because if he keeps people away they can't ruin him again.

And he's scared. Scared that if he gives any girl a chance she'll know after the first date that he doesn't swing that way. That he likes cocks and broad shoulders, but never tits. Likes the roughness of boys. The stubble on their chins.

Jeongguk's good at creating his own destruction. It's fine as long as he's the one hurting himself, right? If he does bad things, at least he's the one screwing up his own life. If he throws himself onto the pavement and lets the hurt stick, no one can point fingers anymore. But then it all catches up when he's laying wide awake in bed at two a.m. staring at the ceiling and wondering where all of this bad came from. Sometimes, late in the night, he wonders about Kim Taehyung.

It's strange because he hasn't seen the boy in eight years, but when the nights are long and Jeongguk's chest aches, his mind always drifts to the brunette. He wonders about Taehyung and if he still clenches his fists. Wonders if he still shrinks under scrutiny. If he trembles every time one of his tormentors calls his name. Wonders if Taehyung had ever learned how to hold himself together without letting pieces fall out—or if he's just as broken as Jeongguk is. Is his voice still quiet when he speaks? Does he french kiss boys in locker rooms as if that'll make all of the trauma that Jeongguk caused him go away?

IS KIM TAEHYUNG GAY?

Jeongguk's good at letting the past eat away at him. The what-could-have-been's he holds like a monument between his teeth. What if he hadn't opened his mouth? What if he had stopped Mingyu and the others before things went too far? What if he had apologized back then? What if instead of being Kim Taehyung's bully he had been his friend? What if. What if. What if?

He doesn't know how to let things go—holds onto all of the wrong parts of his life, so at least then he knows that there was a time when he was happy. Long ago, there was a table set for three and his parents were both smiling down at him. Once, his father loved him. Once, he had friends that he laughed with. Once, long ago, there was a time when the sunlight seeped through his skin and Jeongguk felt whole.

Or maybe it's a form of self punishment; like if he holds on tightly enough someplace, somewhere, Taehyung is happy. Taehyung is alive.

Jeongguk tries to be content living his life in relative isolation. Sticks his nose into books. Plugs his headphones in and drowns out the sound of the outside world. He lives in his little bubble where the passage of time is his only acquaintance. He works on school projects alone, rarely with other people and when he does he never remembers their faces. If Jeongguk tries to remember the people he went to highschool with their features are always a blur. He can't remember. Doesn't want to anyways.

Because when faces stick, when Jeongguk remembers the way they smile or how their eyes twinkle when they're happy, that means something. If Jeongguk can put a name to a face that means that they can hurt him. He won't ever let that happen again.

Except, there's this guy in his physics class that refuses to let Jeongguk forget him. His name is Jung Hoseok, and the only reason that Jeongguk knows this is because Hoseok had been running late to class, and by then everyone had already chosen their partners. And of course, Jeongguk was the odd one out. The awkward and quiet kid who sat in the back that no one ever tried to talk to beyond simple pleasantries.

The professor scolds him for being late. Scans the room and then motions to the back. "Hoseok you'll be paired with Jeongguk," she says and he doesn't even hesitate. Doesn't pause to frown at Jeongguk or even look mildly miffed. He bounds up the steps, all the way to the very back of the lecture room where the former sits.

"I'm Jung Hoseok!" he beams brightly, sticks his hand out expectantly.

Except Jeongguk doesn't even acknowledge the gesture. "I know," he mutters instead, doodling aimlessly in his notebook. He tries to play it cool like he doesn't really care, except he's lowkey sweating bullets because Hoseok is intimidating. He shines way too much and carries himself in a way that would put anyone at ease. He also kind of looks like the kind of person who slacks off and Jeongguk hopes that he doesn't get stuck with a partner who makes him do all of the work again, because the last time that had happened he stayed awake for fifty hours straight. And Jeongguk is stupid enough to just accept it because he's terrified of confrontation. Scared of offending anyone.

Hoseok doesn't seem at all perturbed by Jeongguk's lack of enthusiasm. Sits down next to him and continues to talk. "You look really smart," he says and Jeongguk just shrugs in response. Hoseok leans back in the chair. Lets out a long sigh. "I'm so shit at math and I'm barely passing this class, so please be patient with me."

Oh great, Jeongguk's going to have to do all of the work again isn't he?

"Meet me in the library tomorrow at six," he says stiffly, completely ignoring Hoseok's rambling.

Hoseok doesn't miss a beat. Just grins and agrees with far too much enthusiasm. "It's a date!"

Jeongguk doesn't even crack a smile, just goes back to doodling and ignoring everyone around him. Hoseok sits with him for the rest of the lecture.

Hoseok wasn't lying when he said he was bad at math. Surprisingly enough, he'd shown up at the library to work on the project and hadn't missed a single meeting, even if Jeongguk was always the one who set the date and time without inquiry. He doesn't really understand the project and Jeongguk finds himself being more of a tutor than a partner, but for some strange reason it doesn't really irk him. Although Hoseok had initially seemed like someone who joked around too much and didn't take things seriously, he's actually quite attentive and willing to learn.

And he's patient. Far too patient for his own good. When Jeongguk stumbled over an explanation for the nth time, Hoseok didn't interrupt him once or act annoyed. He seemed so enthralled by every word that came out of Jeongguk's mouth and Jeongguk just doesn't get it because he's always frustrated with his inability to communicate like a normal human. He doesn't know how Hoseok is just so okay with the blatant awkwardness.

"Ah, you're such a genius," Hoseok had complimented. "Like freaking Einstein."

Jeongguk admittedly, had blushed and refused to make eye contact. Picked at the dirt underneath his fingernails instead. "I-it's pretty simple actually."

Even in the silence of the library, his voice was too quiet. Jeongguk had long ago lost the ability to speak with even a semblance of confidence. His words always a murmur and often Hoseok has to lean across the table to hear him, but he doesn't seem bothered by it at all and it makes Jeongguk dizzy because he doesn't understand.

"Simple?" Hoseok had snorted, an incredulous look on his face. "Dude, like half of the class is failing and this is like elementary school math to you. Pure genius."

Jeongguk has never had a partner quite like Hoseok, who goes out of his way to be far too kind. And initially, he's quite suspicious, because no one is ever that nice without an ulterior motive. Around Hoseok, Jeongguk's always bracing himself for an impact that never comes. A part of him thinks that perhaps Hoseok is just a good person and he doesn't know how to handle it—doesn't know how to accept good people.

And Hoseok is good, he's more than good actually. The two week deadline approaches and after they hand in their project, Jeongguk knows that they'll never speak again because that's always how this goes. He pretends that he isn't at all disappointed. Pretends that he doesn't kinda want Hoseok to stay and talk to him more. But it always goes like this because that's how it's supposed to be. Because no one ever stays.

Except the next time they have class together Hoseok marches right up the steps and sits next to Jeongguk like they're old friends.

"Boy, am I glad that hellish project is finally over." He sighs dramatically. "I owe my life to you Jeon Jeongguk."

Jeongguk blinks in confusion. Pinches his arm just to make sure that his depressed and lonely self isn't starting to make up nonexistent friends.

"Um," he begins awkwardly, "the project is over."

"Yes? I just said that."

"Y-you don't have to sit with me anymore."

Hoseok furrows his eyebrows and now Jeongguk isn't the only one confused. "I am aware..."

Jeongguk just stares at him for a long moment, lips pursed. Gears turning in his head. He turns away when the professor walks into the room. "Okay then," he mutters. He doesn't say another word for the rest of the lecture.

Jeongguk doesn't understand Hoseok. Like, at all. For some reason Hoseok has become fixated on him and Jeongguk would be lying if he said that he wasn't spooked by this turn of events. The older boy's presence is jarring, a complete juxtapose to the isolation that Jeongguk has lived with for eight years.

Hoseok enters his life not like a storm because he leaves no destruction, but rather like a long summer. The kind of summer you wish would never end and Jeongguk doesn't know how to adjust. Doesn't think that he can. At first he tries avoiding Hoseok, but he must have attached some kind of GPS device to him, because no matter how fast Jeongguk runs across campus to avoid him, Hoseok always ends up finding Jeongguk.

His second attempt at shaking Hoseok off is to just ignore him to death, except that plan fails even faster than the first one. Hoseok's positive energy is contagious and Jeongguk feels himself beginning to crack. It starts with small gestures like actually smiling shyly at his corny jokes or having small (mostly one sided) conversations about things that don't involve physics. Sometimes Hoseok even drags him out to dinner or the movies and it's the first time in years that Jeongguk has ever spent time with someone like this. So casually and comfortably almost as if they're friends.

"Do you want to go see another movie this weekend, Jeongguk?"

They're sitting on a bench outside an ice cream parlor. Jeongguk had bought blueberry and Hoseok bought strawberry, double scooped. It's a bit inconvenient because the last vestiges of summer had disappeared a few weeks ago and the chill of fall makes his fingertips numb but he doesn't care because this moment is special. Because it's the first time since primary school that Jeongguk has eaten ice cream with someone like this.

"Sure. What movie?" Jeongguk sniffles, tries to rub the warmth back into his nose. He hopes that he doesn't get a cold.

"I dunno yet." Hoseok shrugs. "There's been a lot of superhero movies coming out lately. I would say Justice League but we all know DC sucks ass at making good films, so I was thinking the new Iron Man maybe?"

Jeongguk inhales sharply, and then he can't help it. Really, he can't. His face lights up like a Christmas tree as he softly says with wide eyes, "I love Iron Man."

His reaction startles Hoseok for a split second, but then the older boy looks overjoyed as if he's found a pot of gold. "Oh yeah?"

Jeongguk nods, a little self conscious. "He's my favorite superhero."

"Why's that?" Hoseok sounds giddy.

"Because..."Jeongguk chews at his bottom lip nervously. He's not used to talking about himself like this. "B-because even though he's selfish and doesn't always do what's morally right he's still a hero. Everyone still loves him."

Jeongguk wishes that people still loved him.

He doesn't remember the last time someone wasn't just a blip in his life. He's spent the last eight years forgetting faces, but Hoseok is a glimmer of light in a world that has long lost its color in his eyes and as terrifying as it is, Jeongguk finds that Hoseok's face stands out from the crowd. His long nose, the curve of his jawline—Jeongguk finds that he can remember exactly what Hoseok looks like when he closes his eyes and it's terrifying.

Hoseok, who is loud and buoyant; who laughs with his whole body and smiles like he's the fucking sun. Jeongguk won't ever admit to it, but he's become terribly fond and Hoseok's the kind of person that he longs to be friends with, but he's the kind of friend that Jeongguk will never deserve.

So whenever Hoseok makes some stupid joke that never fails to make Jeongguk crack a smile, he begins to clench his fists and look away because he isn't even entitled to these small moments of relief. If Hoseok notices he doesn't say anything, just continues to cling to Jeongguk and talk to him as if they're more than just two boys who worked on a class project together once. It's not happiness, but for just a few moments, when Jeongguk's with Hoseok his chest doesn't feel as heavy. And he thinks, maybe I can have this.

But then he's looking at the palm of his hands again and thinking about all the mistakes he's made and he's shrinking. He can't. He can't hold on to someone like Hoseok and taint him. Can't ask Hoseok to stay because then he'll just paint his insides black. Jeongguk refuses to hurt anyone like that ever again.

But it's like Hoseok knows that something inside of Jeongguk is broken, like he knows that Jeongguk never learned how to unstick the sticky parts of himself; like he knows that Jeongguk is shattered glass too dangerous to pick up because there's so many pieces of himself scattered all over the kitchen floor that he'll never find. He's gentle with Jeongguk and weirdly intune with his mood swings. Like he knows when it's okay to touch Jeongguk and when to leave space between them when they sit together.

It's comfortable. Too comfortable.

Sorry I'm a messy person, Jeongguk wants to say. But he doesn't.

He's sitting in Starbucks again, absentmindedly scribbling drawings onto the empty white spaces of his textbook. Jeongguk finds himself unable to focus on any of his homework because it's one of those days. One of those days where the fact that he's unhappy and will never be able to chase his dreams really hits him. His skin is crawling with anxiety and he can't stay still. Glares at his financing textbook and wishes he could throw it into a fire.

He's more invested his doodling than anything else, glancing up briefly at a trio of newcomers who are loud with their entrance, and just when he's about to dismiss them as your average campus fuckboys, he recognizes Hoseok amongst them. And being the terribly unsociable person that he is, Jeongguk tries to pretend that he doesn't see the other—which doesn't work out at all because with his Jeon Jeongguk radar activated, Hoseok almost immediately zones in on him.

"Gukkie!" he calls excitedly.

Jeongguk pretends that he doesn't hear Hoseok because maybe if he glares at his textbook hard enough the other boy will get the signal and go away, but then Hoseok's making a beeline for the table and Jeongguk looks up, smiling tightly.

"Hi," he squeaks.

Hoseok beams. "I haven't seen you all week, dude. Where have you been?"

Jeongguk tries to think of a plausible excuse that doesn't involve telling Hoseok that sometimes his anxiety gets so bad that it's hard for him to leave the house. Sometimes he's too scared to go to class, and even though he knows that it's not like highschool, knows that there aren't teenage boys waiting to dump his head in a toilet again, it sticks with him anyways. Like what if someone shoves him into the mud again? Another black eye maybe? Sometimes he can still feel the pain of every blow, but how does he tell anyone that?

He clams up instead. "Um...places."

Hoseok laughs as if Jeongguk is the funniest person on the planet and in the presence of two other people he doesn't know and refuses to look at, Jeongguk feels way out of his element.

"Okay well I've wanted to introduce you to my friends for awhile, but you always bolt the moment I look away," Hoseok scolds jokingly and Jeongguk feels very much called out.

"This is Jimin." Hoseok introduces the boy on his left who smiles sweetly. He's pretty in a way that makes Jeongguk feel self-conscious. Features soft with plump lips and blonde hair fluffed in a way that makes him look incredibly soft.

"I've heard so much about you. You're fucking adorable," Jimin coos. His voice is nice to listen to, a little raspy and high pitched but he sounds pretty. Looks pretty. Is definitely pretty. Probably takes his baths with rose petals and bath bombs. Jeongguk on the other hand has been wearing the same white tee for three days straight.

He scratches his head awkwardly. "Thank you," he mumbles.

"And this," Hoseok gestures to the other boy and this time Jeongguk dares really look. Past his chin, his nose and—oh. The moment their eyes meet he regrets it. Wishes that he could look away but he can't because it's too late and chills begin to creep up his spine because this boy is breathtakingly beautiful as if he was born from the cosmos. Beautiful as in Zeus himself created the boy with his bare hands and Jeongguk feels the blood in his veins rush and freeze over. Feels himself beginning to shake, because while the boy is ethereal, he is familiar in a way that makes dread bubble in the pit of his stomach. He's familiar in a way that makes Jeongguk feel like there's no air in the room.

Just the two of them.

"T-Taehyung," he chokes out.

He feels like he's going to be sick.

Jeongguk tries to tear his gaze away but it's like Taehyung has him locked in place. He stares back with such intensity for a long moment, expression unreadable and Jeongguk feels hot and cold at the same time. Feels like the world is starting to crumble at his feet because this has to be some kind of cruel joke. Taehyung can't possibly be here right now. But he is.

Finally after what feels like an eternity, Taehyung shifts, the corners of his mouth pulling up into a smirk. "Hello Jeongguk," he greets cooly. "Didn't think I'd ever see you again."

All the remaining air leaves Jeongguk's lungs and it's like the time he got hit in the chest with a baseball bat when he was nine and couldn't breathe; except this is the kind of pain he carries around his ankles like shackles and he's barely afloat, trying to keep his head above the surface. Feels like Taehyung has just shook his pond with just a few words, but Jeongguk has never learned how to hold himself together in the first place without letting all of the bad spill over.

It's a venomous moment—Taehyung and Jeongguk are like two satellites at the opposite ends of the planet that should never connect. They're more than cliches like fire and ice, and Jeongguk knows better than to play with boys who give him third degree burns. He had tried to forget Taehyung, but it's like every time he tries to let things go it all comes right back to cut him open. Or maybe he never really tried to forget; he wanted his mind to be a graveyard but Taehyung could never be the corpse.

He's never been good at funerals anyways.

Here Taehyung is, beautiful and no longer a child. No longer small and fragile. His gaze is sharp. Gone is the Taehyung who stares at the ground with wide, clueless eyes. He no longer looks ready to crumble like a century old abandoned house. He's tall now with defined features, very much a man.

His voice is deep and strong, a complete juxtapose to the stuttering child he had been years ago. He seems to hold himself with such surety and confidence in a way that gives Jeongguk whiplash. His presence is loud, not in the way that Hoseok is, but more like an overwhelming force—like he could swallow Jeongguk whole.

Kim Taehyung has grown to be beautiful; undeniably and irrevocably beautiful.

It's like the wide mouth of a storm. Taehyung looks at Jeongguk not with mute terror. Not with hatred or disgust, but almost as if he's a predator enjoying a hunt. Like he finds Jeongguk's presence amusing more than anything else—a simple old flame of his past to temporarily fixate his attention on. As if DID KIM TAEHYUNG TRY TO KILL HIMSELF BECAUSE OF JEON JEONGGUK? never existed.

Jeongguk wants to know if it's true. He needs to know.

Hoseok looks between the pair, eyes narrowed in suspicion. "You two know each other?"

And Jeongguk can't answer. Feels himself shrivelling up under Taehyung's unwavering, oppressive gaze. If eyes are the windows to the soul, Jeongguk feels more like he's staring at a brick wall. Taehyung seems closed off. Every twitch of his lips measured, every shift in his facial expression controlled.

Jeongguk feels the anxiety begin to creep its way up his throat. Feels it as it squeezes its hands around his neck. Look at what you've done. Look at the mess that you've created. It's like he's ten again, except this time he's the one walking into class without shoes on. The skin on his knees are bruised and every sentence starts with a stuttered syllable.

"We're just old acquaintances from before I moved," Taehyung explains smoothly without a hitch. Doesn't even hesitate or second guess himself, as if they were really just strangers.

Hoseok's face lights up at this. "Really? What a small world."

"Yeah," Taehyung responds dryly, eyes never once leaving Jeongguk's. "What a small world indeed."

It's small. Too small. So small that it's suffocating. Sitting here frozen to the chair in front of a kid he used to bully, Jeongguk feels as if his skin will melt into his bones.

"Have you been well?" Taehyung asks and all Jeongguk can do is swallow. He doesn't know how Taehyung does it—how he's able to speak to Jeongguk so casually as if he isn't the reason for Taehyung being bullied out of middle school. As if he isn't the biggest piece of shit on planet earth.

Jeongguk realizes that they're all waiting for him to answer. "Y-yeah," he manages to stutter. Looks away from Taehyung, down to his hands that shake in his lap. "I've been well." The words come out as a thick whisper and Jeongguk feels stupid. So fucking stupid. Is this the world's cruel joke? Like, oh someone actually doesn't think you're a piece of shit for once? Well guess what? You remember that kid you used to bully? Well that's one of his friends. Did you really think that you could ever be loved?

It tastes bitter on his tongue.

"That's good," Taehyung hums. "It's nice to see you making something out of your life, Jeongguk." He says it in a way that seems friendly but Jeongguk can hear the underlying bite to Taehyung's words and shame makes his cheeks burn hot.

He's not making anything out of himself. Just wasting time and wasting away in it.

"Jeongguk?" Jimin echoes. "You mean Jeon Jeongguk?" his voice is tight and when Jeongguk dares to glance up, he's no longer smiling.

"Oh yeah. Didn't I tell you about him, Jimin?" Taehyung raises a brow.

"Heard you were quite the charm back in the day." The tone Jimin takes on is mocking. He glances over pointedly to Taehyung and it's obvious by the look they share that there's a cruel joke whispered between them.

Jeongguk knows exactly what he means.

So you're the one who bullied my best friend and made his life a living hell?

"Yeah." Jeongguk swallows. "I'm him." It's like a confirmation of guilt and Jeongguk feels himself shrivelling up. Hears his heart thudding loudly in his ears and oh, is he going to have a panic attack right in front of the boy he tormented as if he's the one suffering? What kind of backwards logic is this?

But it's too much and Taehyung's too much. Too overwhelming. Too beautiful. And Jeongguk—he only ever knows how to let light leak out from the marrow of his bones and his insides are a house full of spiders who don't plan on helping him live.

"I have to go," he blurts. Tries to gather his things but his hands are shaking so hard that the pen goes flying to the floor and before he has a chance to reach for it, Taehyung's already bent over and gripping it in between his fingers.

"You dropped his," he states obviously. Holds out the pen and stares at Jeongguk with challenging eyes.

There's a moment of awkwardness where neither of them move, but the need to escape is making him feel dizzy and so Jeongguk reaches out to grab it with his head down. "T-thank you," he murmurs.

Before Hoseok has a chance to stop him, Jeongguk's already running out the door but his feet aren't moving fast enough. Even when the coffee shop disappears as he turns a corner, he still feels like he's suffocating. Like he'll sink into the cement and be swallowed up.

He wishes that he could just brush meeting Taehyung off as some kind of coincidence. He wishes that he could just shrug it off and let go because it was eight fucking years ago, but he can't. Because this is karma coming back to take another piece of him yet again and he's too weak for this. The smallest of pin pricks breaks his skin open but seeing Taehyung has torn him right open and it hurts.

Hurts the way it did the first time when Jeongguk had kissed a boy and told his father. Hurts like when he had been called disgusting. Dirty. You're not my fucking son. The sun begins to set like the last grains of sand in an hourglass, and nothing is bright anymore but the blood on Jeongguk's fingernails from where he picks too hard at his skin. Jeongguk tries to hold on, but he doesn't hold on tight enough before the mess is seeping out of his fists and dripping onto the concrete.

He doesn't make it far before he throws himself into a secluded alleyway and sinks down to the dirty ground. World spinning and chest heaving, a sob rips its way out of his throat, ugly and garbled. Jeongguk doesn't know how long he kneels there, curled into himself. Nails digging into his arms, drawing blood. Thinks that he's prettier when he's in pain like this—when he's bleeding.

He doesn't know a lot of things; like why he's still alive. Like why god makes people like him. Like why is Taehyung here? Why is he perfect and so well put together? Why is he beautiful. Gorgeous. Unreal. Why after all these years, does Jeongguk still want to kiss him?

Why is Jeongguk gay? Why do I have to be gay?

Boys don't kiss boys. His father told him that.

Cold and so terribly alone, Jeongguk cries. What for, he isn't sure about. All he knows is that he wants to go home. Where home is, he doesn't know.