⊱ boulevard

@『 ✮ 』audrey hwang。 she could not help but to let out a small chuckle, bowing her head in thanks once more before shaking her head out of amusement. "If anything, I think you're more beautiful." Waving her hand in dismissal, she tucked her hair behind her ears and readjusted her violin case's strap on her shoulders, feeling her cheeks once again flushing with embarrassment. if anything, she owed her skills to many hours of practice. "Ah so it is your first time...? I see I see. Mhm.. if you truly thought of me as such, you should try giving a listen to many older, violinists before me. They're greater and better", she remarked and once again chuckled while shaking her head. "Oh no no, I might look exhausted but with fans like you, i feel energized once again. Oh nah, not many fans will be that bold to come up and say hi like this. Perhaps.. do you have time for a cuppa of hot chocolate? It is not everyday I bump into a brave one."

@『 ✮ 』sohyang han。 Audrey was still in a daze, she just could not seem to figure out why the pretty violinist looked sad, distraught even, when the performance she had given was anything but…“T-truly so beautiful!” She just blurted out— and perhaps a /tad/ too loud. “Sorry! But I just— well I have never even been to one of these symphony orchestras myself but I was so moved by you above all. I’ve never seen someone play before with so much emotion, you’re truly very gifted Ms. Han although I guess you already probably know that.” She gave the other a sheepish chuckle, head tilted slightly to the side. She did not know Sohyang Han, and still she wished to know what was the matter? And could she help? Perhaps not. Audrey was a stranger after all, however she didn’t like seeing others down. “Sorry— again! I know you must be exhausted after that grand performance and dealing with a fan is probably last on your list but I just thought I should extend my gratitude for such a lovely evening!”

@『 ✮ 』audrey hwang。 One more night of performing the Brahms violin sonata and she could look forward to just chill in her fluffy queen bed and not having to worry about the intense practicing days to get up to par with the symphony. although it might seem easy off the bat, she would have difficulties on some days where she was not able to display nor interpret the piece in her own unique style. with the upbow of her violin bow, she got relaxed visibly and cracked a small smile to the thunderous applause of the audience while the conductor turned around, holding his baton and bowed together. with her exit from the stage, she let out a small sigh, walking briskly to her green room which could also be known as a changing room and securely kept her thousands-dollar violin away. The conductor came inside after knocking on the door, greeting here and commenting on her excellent play tonight on stage. throughout the conversation, she was just smiling and nodding her head about before bidding goodbye to the said conductor, and hurried out.

if anything, she just wanted to get out of here so bad and chill the night away without having to socialize at all. sure, she did loved being on the show and have people enjoying her playing the violing but sometimes being in the limelight had its pros and cons. Of course, being such an impatient klutz, she was not even seeing where she was going and accidentally bumped shoulders with a stranger.

“Oh, goodness! I’m so sorry I should’ve wat-oh! It’s you! You’re the pretty violinist I just saw onstage, Miss Han right? Your performance was truly so—…”

the female's voice shook her back to reality and she briefly looked at the other before smiling so faintly that nobody would know if she was actually smiling. "I—", she trailed off, looking at the younger lady and chuckled narcasstically. "Oh, i hope I did not injure you right there. And yes, I'm Miss Han. My performance is truly...?" something about the girl just made her feel like staying right there instead of shying away when approached by fans or run when obsessed fans approached. If anything, she had their faces imprinted in her memory bank where there was a file of them.

@『 ✮ 』sohyang han。 『 ᵗʷ : ⁿᵒⁿᵉ ʙᴏᴜʟᴇᴠᴀʀᴅ ∘∘∘ ʜᴏʟʟʏᴡᴏᴏᴅ, ʟᴀ ✦ — ᴶᵃⁿᵘᵃʳʸ ¹⁴, ²⁰²¹ 』

Audrey had never been lucky (or wealthy) enough to attend a first class violin concerto, but her make up artist had given her a ticket for one as an unexpected family event came up (something along the lines of her sister in law giving birth two weeks earlier than expected, the details were now a bit hazy) and she could not be able to attend, so why let that space go to waste? Audrey, being a bit of a country bumpkin through and through and not ever having the luxury to attend such grand and…expensive events was in absolute awe and gratitude. That evening she wore her best dress robes and had done all her chores accordingly so that she could have a few hours to herself in order to attend the concert.

It was in a nearby theatre, and all attendees were also clad in their absolute and shiniest best. The pamphlet for the evening had scheduled violinist Sohyang Han for last, the name did ring a bell but Audrey was not too well versed in concepts like classical music and orchestra, so really she could not even put a face to the name, but from the whispers of those sitting next to her, Miss Han seemed to have quite a lot of praise.

And she rightfully deserved it so. When she came onstage the first word Audrey attributed to her was ‘beautiful’. But the violinist was not just beautiful in appearance but beautiful in her craft. Again, Audrey was no violin expert but the way she had played just struck something in her very core that was enough to bring glassy crystalline drops to her chestnut brown eyes. It was a soothing melody, and yet she could feel the emotion that Sohyang was playing with.

Even as she exited the venue, she could not help but to somewhat hum bits and pieces from the piece the pretty violinist played, and she wondered if she could find some of her work online so that she could have the pleasure of listening to it once again.

Lost in her own moment in time, she had not noticed that /the/ Sohyang Han was also heading her way and accidentally had bumped shoulders with Audrey.

“Oh, goodness! I’m so sorry I should’ve wat-oh! It’s you! You’re the pretty violinist I just saw onstage, Miss Han right? Your performance was truly so—…”

Wait a minute, she had just played so beautifully a few minutes ago and the audience stood for a roaring wave of applause so why…why did she look so sad?

@『 ✮ 』eunsang seo。 As he slumps against the pole, eyelids threatening to drop down for one last time, a question hangs quietly in his head: Where would he find himself the next morning?

Funny fact, Sungjoo sometimes finds himself falling into an awkward silence, watching the members around him in laughter and chatter, and certainly, within a few of those seconds he would suddenly feel like an alien. At first, he thought it was just some odd sentimental moment that he grew up to having (maybe it was a sign of him starting to grow up when he would never feel this way in childhood) and that maybe he was also experiencing what other people would have experienced someday in their life.

But as the number of times starts to increase at a memorable pace, happening a bit more frequently in a course of the few months especially he has come to Hollywood, he knows things aren't going well inside him. He would want to become especially close to someone, only to find that he's not that close (as defined by some scenarios he gives himself in the head), and then a small siren would go off in him - 'You are a loner, accept it'. Of course he has no doubt in his band members' love for him, but he thinks he is starting to get greedy on top of what he had owned.

Such as Sanghoon's.

Ah , here we are back at the topic again. He sighs, not even realizing how dark has the sky become, how the remnants of human tracks around him have decreased to almost none around this time. How long has he been out here, would Hayan noona realize he is out here? Or some city police patrolling around the streets? He doesn't know, eyelids finally falling over when he is so sleepy, so tired...

And then he heard some voice, far away. That sounds like...his name? He wonders should he respond, or is this a dream of his? But the voice gets closer, and he now recognizes the voice. O- it's his leader. Is he the one coming out here for him tonight? A smile hangs on his reddish face, turning to the man's face who is blurry in his line of sight where he reaches to touch it. "Hyung- why are you so, blurp-blurry..." He squints, but his sight is still cloudy.

@『 ✮ 』sungjoo bae。 It's unlike Sungjoo to miss more than five calls in a row, and while worry starts flooding Eunsang's mind at the third attempt, he decides to leave the comfort of his apartment at the fifth and final one. He heads downstairs to the younger's place first and rings his doorbell a couple of times, only to be greeted with nothing but the echo of his own voice as he vainly calls his name.

The next thing he knows, he's standing outside the building empty-handed, save for his phone and a spare twenty dollar bill tucked inside his jeans pocket, desperate eyes darting around his surroundings. Where would Sungjoo have gone off to? How far away could he be? Eunsang's more or less familiar with the area now — having lived here for exactly a year, but what good does his sense of direction bring when he can't recall a single place the younger man could have gone?

He dials his number once again as he dashes towards the direction of the main road, figuring that it might be best to start his search there. "Answer the call, Joo-ya," he whispers, almost as though he's begging. The continuous ringing refuses to come to a halt — it refuses to let him know that Sungjoo is okay, that Eunsang is being overly paranoid (but with everything that's been happening lately, he's slowly losing his grip on every ounce of sanity he had left, and this would be a testament of it). And of course, after what felt like forever, the call goes straight into voicemail again. He curses under his breath and ends it right before the beep before slipping his phone back into his pocket. He takes a moment to stop beside a lamppost and leans against it as he catches his breath.

But when he looks up, he sees a lone familiar figure across the road. /Sungjoo/. His eyes light up upon recognizing the figure, but the smile curling on his lips immediately drops when the other's face becomes clearer in sight. He sees the other man slumped against a pole with his eyes shut, and Eunsang uses his remaining energy to race against the blinking pedestrian light and sprint across the crosswalk.

"Sungjoo," he calls, giving his arm a nudge. He's gone drinking with him enough times to know that Sungjoo has had one too many bottles of alcohol tonight. But what could have possibly prompted him to drink this much? Eunsang decides to tuck the question into the back of his head for now despite the curiosity threatening to take over his mind. Hollywood isn't the safest place at night, much less when you're a celebrity. "Joo-ya, it's hyung. We have to go now."

@『 ✮ 』yeonwol moon。 "No no no...it's, it's fine." Sungjoo presses his lips into a thin line, soon parting when he takes a deep breath, clearing his throat before he turns to Yeonwol with a serious expression, murmuring his answer quietly. "S-Stand please..." He says that while his hands hold onto him, slightly tighter since he is now trying to catch his balance, then on the count to three he swiftly stands up, grabbing onto his arm while whining like a baby. "AHHHHHH my leggggg-" he doesn't know if this helps to lighten the mood a bit, but he has to be comedic, let it be.

After giving that well deserved blood circulation and feeling his legs coming back to normal from the previous state, Sungjoo realizes it is about time to execute his plan. The plan to not take Yeonwol home, and for that to happen he needs a place where they could go. The night has turned even darker, and in a different country than home, Sungjoo is always concerned as to where they could spend the night without going home.

"Hyung," He wipes off the tears with his sleeves and sniffs quietly. "Now where do we go? I -sniffs- brought my wallet in case you -sniffs- want to eat or buy anything." He blinks those watery eyes as he looks at him.

@『 ✮ 』sungjoo bae。 "Oh," Yeonwol breathes out in surprise, and he leans away, immediately holding Sungjoo's arms as though to check on the younger. "I'm sorry, really. I didn't... I didn't realize," he says, voice turning softer near the end. He uses the back of one hand to wipe his tears away, feeling mildly disgusted by how sticky he feels from how much he's cried for the past — what, hours? Has it been hours now? He supposes it has — the skies have long turned darker since Sanghoon...

Since Sanghoon left him behind.

"Do you want to stand? Sit?" he asks, already slowly turning back into the role that he has always managed to play in front of the others. The somewhat reliable hyung — he says reliable loosely, because that is honestly such a questionable thing to say — that rarely ever needs help despite the fact that he gets more lost than not on a good day.

@『 ✮ 』eunsang seo。 Is Los Angeles usually this bustling at night? The apparent answer speaks for itself in volumes as cars swoosh across the road one followed by another one, vanishing in a fleeting glimpse when he looks up to find the source of the noise. Nah, it doesn't matter, he is left alone anyway - even with people walking past him, cars passing by this bus stop, no one would ever pause for a man who is obviously drinking his heart out. In all normality, they would just pretend they have not seen him, or tell themselves it is not their business to stop and ask what is happening to him. And perhaps that is the kind of lone time he needs.

The opening of the green bottle touches his bottom lip, and he parts them open while tilting the bottle upwards, sending the transparent liquid into his mouth. It stings the moment it makes contact with his inner cheeks, even more on the tongue as every taste bud sizzles in bitterness and a refreshing taste of lime, then turns into a slow burn as it glides down the slimy surface of his throat. He could feel it the way it runs down his esophagus, down to his stomach with the warmth it brings to him - but it only burns him out once it reaches the bottom, his stomach growling in hunger now protests at the irresponsible move of the man.

His lips part, but no words come out - he doesn't know what he wants to say, whether it's the whine of pain slowly eating him up from the inside or the sigh of relief that something as painful can distract him from the heartbreak he is suffering.

It is funny, isn't it? Him.

Being the last person to know about the hiatus, the last one to know about what happened, the whole news.

He feels like a whole clown himself. How on earth did he miss out on Yeonwol and Sanghoon dating each other?

Maybe there were signs that told him it was possible, now that he thinks back to the past, it wasn't hard to believe they were lovers - but they were so close, everyone was so close to each other, he only took it as signs of their bonds, the strong connection that a band would have when they were away from their family, away from their hometown. Because all they had was each other, and no one else could ever replace that.

But the more he tells himself that, the more he felt like a fool.

No one said a word, but they all knew it. He closed his eyes, the clenching in his left chest getting more intense than it could explore right inside him. He never asked...and it was such a mistake. What was a mistake? His crush, or the fact that he was so close with both of them, especially Sanghoon? He had no idea, but the voices in his head kept telling him how stupid it was, how stupid HE was - to not get a clue, all this time. And so the realization building up through the accumulation of time crushes him almost immediately when he found himself walking out from the dorm, not even bothered to grab another coat to keep himself warm. And after a walk for who knows how long, he is here, in mere sweaters and jeans, warming himself by only means of soju.

Will anyone ever find him? Maybe, if Hayan noona wakes up at night wanting to get ramyeon and finding him not at his bed; or if today is a thankfully sleepy night for her, then no one would notice an empty space until the next morning. But maybe, just maybe... he closed his eyes, body weakly leaning against the pole with a sigh. 

He is so tired.

@『 ✮ 』yeonwol moon。 Sungjoo tries not to make any sound, but his tears have failed to be controlled as they continuously stream down his cheeks, feeling like a refreshing freeze whenever the wind hits. As if he could feel Yeonwol's emotions (which should be way stronger than how he had felt), he was not sure if it was his vulnerability that hit him for the longest time ever, for a man who used to be so confident upfront now huddled in a crying mess, he wonders how intense that heartbreak would have been, to break him up so completely like so. And he could do nothing else besides holding him and letting him cry into his arms, for that seems to be the only thing he could offer at the very moment.

He froze at his apology, one that he shouldn't have said or even feel that way. No, no one should be sorry about this, he only tightened his arms around him, whispering a soft quiet reply - "You don't have to be."

His palm rubs on his back soothingly, a small smile slowly growing on his face when he feels the person in his hold calming down with the roller coaster of emotions coming to an end. It may look like a bizarre moment with them just holding each other like so, with his legs getting numb from the squatting, his lips part as he thinks carefully how to word his following words, a small whine escaping him when the numbness spreads all over his legs.

"H-Hyung..." he calls out a bit helplessly, lips pressing together into a thin line before turning into a pout once more. "Numb...my leg...."

@『 ✮ 』sungjoo bae。 Yeonwol doesn't know how long he spent crying in Sungjoo's hold, but when he finishes, he's left with stuttered breaths and a pair of red eyes. His hold on Sungjoo's shirt doesn't loosen, no, not yet. He feels his fingers ache with how tightly he's held, and it takes a conscious effort for him to try and let go. But he doesn't move from Sungjoo's arms just yet, because all he can feel now is exhaustion washing over him. He sniffs quietly, tries to even out his breaths. So many thoughts flood his mind, so many words threatening at the tip of his tongue.

But all that comes out is a soft, weak, "I'm sorry."

Sungjoo shouldn't have seen him like this. Sungjoo shouldn't have had to come to his rescue like this. Yeonwol is supposed to know how to take care of himself, how to play this game, but... Ha, who is he even trying to kid? All he's done is lie to himself, and has lived such a facade for so many years, that now when he's tried to be honest, it's all his ugly sides coming out without pause. It's exhausting, he thinks, being honest. Crying, talking, laughing, loving. It's all exhausting. It's why he remains in Sungjoo's arms still, even when he's already starting to calm down, because Sungjoo's warmth is welcoming, comforting.

And yet.

And yet his body still craves for someone else's touch. He doesn't know whether to loathe it or accept it.

@『 ✮ 』yeonwol moon。 Sungjoo feels himself stiffen against Yeonwol's touch, one that he honestly never felt before. He remembers how close they were in the past, how he would follow the older around and cracking his inner ice up. Yeonwol is like an ice mountain, almost like an enigma that barely has anything clearly known about him. Sungjoo had always paid close attention to him compared to the other members, for how he always seemed so cold and distanced, it triggered a part in him to care for him naturally, and it succeeded.

But all that effort soon turned into vain when he found out Sanghoon and Yeonwol was dating - even worse, the last one to know out of everyone in the band.

He felt like a fool, and since then had distanced himself from the first friend he had known in university and the older brother whom he had given so much to get closer to him. He always looked so confident, as if he would never be seen as vulnerable, as if weakness is not a word existing in his dictionary. But today he truly saw a different side of him - a part where even Yeonwol himself had never shown him in the past, and he feels like he's knowing him all over again. Yeonwol is not completely an ice mountain, for an ice mountain also has its day where it melts.

His heart sinks at his touch, feeling the person inside his arms trembling intensely - and it is not solely because of the cold, he believes. He wordlessly wraps his arms around the man, even with layers of clothing he could feel how slim he is, perhaps from the result of the past few days. Tears quietly roll down his cheeks, didn't he know well how he was feeling as well? Loving someone ever so deeply, and suffer from the pain of it. He rests his hand on top of his head, pressing a kiss to his head.

"I know, hyung. I know...just, cry into me however you want. I am here now."

@『 ✮ 』sungjoo bae。 Yeonwol is caught off guard when he feels something wrap around his figure, flinching when he feels someone touch him — only to recognize Sungjoo belatedly as his face is pressed against the younger's shoulder. His hands tremble in between them, and he doesn't move for a few moments. It takes him a while to have Sungjoo's presence finally sink in his mind, and another belated second for his breath to hitch before he's slowly, carefully wrapping his arms around Sungjoo, clutching onto the younger's shirt almost as though he's holding for dear life. He parts his lips to say something, anything, because this is his junior right here — Sungjoo isn't meant to see him like this, isn't meant to know this part of him.

But here is Moon Yeonwol, ever so charming, confident member of the band, breaking down in the warm arms of his friend.

No words come out of his lips. Instead, there are sobs. His tears spill a new batch, and he's burying his face onto Sungjoo's shoulder, not even bothering to stop his cries anymore. He cries, and with his tears come the pain, the hurt and everything he misses. Choked stutters of, "I'm so, so ing stupid, Sungjoo," and something terribly similar to, "I loved him so damn much—" mix with his tears, until he doesn't even know what's coming out of his lips, what emotions he's letting pour out of his heart.

He's tired — so, so terribly tired.

@『 ✮ 』yeonwol moon。 He jogs on the street, oblivion to the gaze shooting towards him as if asking why is this person jogging at midnight, or questioning what this man is doing in the middle of the street. Either way, Sungjoo pays no attention to those unimportant side characters, his mind and heart only focuses on that one name he has been repeating in his head ever since he stepped out from the door.

Moon Yeonwol.

His chest rises up and down at his uneven breath coming out from his chapped lips, going dry at the cold weather while he feels the slight spasms urging to stop him from proceeding. He was panting heavily for a second, before remembering the person on the other end, holding his voice down so he could listen to the slightest sounds from him. The softer his voice becomes, the helpless he feels his heart aching against his chest, in absolute state of wanting to just find him and hold him close to him. He shouldn't be far, as he pulls the phone away once he receives his response to switching on the GPS, eyes widened when he could see another red dot located somewhere around, making him stop to look around. His eyes dart from the arrow pointing on the screen to the buildings slowly blending into one because of the arrival of darkness, gulping when he runs across the street and heading forward again, staring at the arrow approaching the red dot that hasn't moved ever since.

"I will find you, hyung. Always." He pants while sending his late response, one the other has probably waited for a while.

And when he is right on top of the red dot, he looks up, only to be met by vending machines, but no one around. He hears a tiny voice, and there he is - hiding in between two vending machines, in the oddest position where no one could probably find him.

His heart skips a beat at the man, then before anything he quickly wraps the man in the jacket he had brought along, pulling him into a tight hug. "I am here, I am so sorry.."

@『 ✮ 』sungjoo bae。 That's a first, Yeonwol thinks absentmindedly to himself, that someone told him that they didn't have to go home. For a few moments, it's only his breaths that can be heard from his line. For a few moments, there's nothing but his shaky breaths, the soft sobs, the things he wants to hide the most. But he nods, even when he knows Sungjoo won't see. He hums weakly, and he leans back, letting himself breathe more easily than his hunched over posture from mere seconds ago.

"Okay," he replies just as softly, too vulnerable, and he doesn't like it the slightest bit. But Sungjoo offers him a small escape, even if it's temporary and will not be enough to take his heart away from the pain that's so stubbornly gripping it.

The heartbreak comes in the form of vines with torns wrapped around his heart, making him bleed and hurt and cry.

It's almost like a burden for him to try and switch on his GPS — he can barely see with his tearful eyes, but he manages. It's a slow process, but he does it. He brings his phone back to his ear once more, sniffing, gulping. He hears Sungjoo's words, the small, 'I need you, hyung,' and it only causes for the vines around his heart to tighten even more. "It's... It's on. Can you—can you find me?"

@『 ✮ 』yeonwol moon。 Even if miles of distance have separated them apart physically, it feels like Yeonwol is just right beside him when he can hear every single inhale he takes, the shaky breaths he holds, and the vulnerability in his voice. As if a thin gilded piece of clay, able to shatter in the lightest touch, or a voice louder than his. This side of Yeonwol is one he has never seen, and perhaps doesn't want to. He knows what he would want to do the moment he hears that kind of voice, his heart clenching tightly at how he is not right beside him to be with him, to give him strength. Maybe he just wants to be alone, but maybe - he needs him as well.

"H-Hyung," he tries to stable his own voice, wanting to sound stronger for him but still at a softer tone. "I understand...erm, let's not go home, but let me be with you, please?" He already slips into his jacket and grabs another one in case he doesn't have one, walking to the entrance while keeping his footsteps light. There is no need to alarm more people at this moment, and surely no one would be in the right state of mind for now. His socked feet slide into the sneakers, very carefully closing the door before he sighs in relief, feeling himself a bit more liberated when he is out. On the other side of the phone is a person he needs to rush to as soon as possible, but him straying to somewhere unknown is also a problem to him.

"We are not going home today, but let's stay somewhere together alright?" He presses his lips together, looking around while he walks on the streets, eyes scanning everywhere while not missing any signs of anyone, for they could possibly be Yeonwol. But of course it is not that easy, and Sungjoo hopes that Yeonwol is at least cooperative on this one favor he has of him. "Do you perhaps...have your GPS off right now? Can you switch it on for me?" He remembers this new function where they could add people on their contact list to track their phones down if ever, and he briefly pulls the phone away from him to open the GPS application on his phone. "I need you, hyung." And his heart beats even faster as he walks down the streets, passing by people who would throw looks at him who has nothing but a frown on his face.

@『 ✮ 』sungjoo bae。 Yeonwol doesn't answer immediately, no. He takes a sharp inhale, trying to calm his heart before he says anything more ― but he finds that it's a terribly difficult thing to do so, and his hand trembles as it holds the phone to his ear, his other hand tightening its grasp onto his shirt. It's becoming more difficult to breathe, especially in this cold. He can barely feel his hands, his fingertips turning numb, but that doesn't compare to how his lips part to take deeper breaths, and he knows that Sungjoo hears the next inhales he takes, because it's loud and desperate with the need to be quiet.

And tears spill again, quiet sobs making their way out of his lips. It's so damn pathetic, he thinks to himself, that he's breaking down with such a small question. The band is a mess and so is he, and perhaps it wouldn't have been such a mess had he not prompted the end of his relationship with Sanghoon, but he doesn't know if that would have been for the best either. Had he stayed with Sanghoon any longer... Yeonwol's certain he would have broken the man.

The way he is too, because that's just how it is, isn't it? It's just how it is with Yeonwol, whose tightly controlled grip on his life ruins the very same thing he wants to stay constant.

"I don't know," he utters softly, barely audible. He shakes his head, a forced dry laugh escaping his lips. "I don't ing know where I am, Sungjoo," he says breathlessly, and his teeth dig onto the soft flesh of his lower lip, chapped due to being out in the cold for so long ― he doesn't even know how long it's been since Sanghoon left him. He knows it's dangerous for him to be out alone, especially when directions have been the bane of his existence since the very beginning. He's a hazard to himself, and yet staying with the others now feel so much like a suffocating prison that he cannot handle right now. "I don't want to come home," he whispers with a light sniff. "I―I can't."

@『 ✮ 』yeonwol moon。 Sungjoo has never seen such a mess.

Everyone in the band in shambles, all in a matter of a few days - and phone calls start to get cut off, articles and predictions all around the internet trying to guess what the has happened to the rising rock band. He has witnessed doors being slammed shut ever since morning, for the first time he's ever seen the doors more than the faces themselves, and it is just...chaos.

It is hard to say it is none of his business, not when it involves the band he loves, the family he's been a part of for years, the hyungs he regard as the people he would protect with his life. But even at this very moment, he has no idea what to do - every thought has successfully broken apart in his head, not forming a complete plan of what to do, or how he can help, and this might be what everyone else is also going through at the moment. The smell of storm is slowly brewing inside him, hooking such palpitations in contrast to how helpless and weak he feels.

What had happened to them?

He exhales a sigh, walking around the dorm to check if everyone's still in place. With doors locked, he can only judge it by the sounds behind the door, or the quick review if anyone had gone out today. But the moment he arrives at Yeonwol's room, the cold wind blowing right at his feet from underneath the door sends him shivers up his spine. With that comes a sudden thought, and when he pushes the door open, he was right - Yeonwol is not in his room.

And certainly not in their dorm either, For the youngest who had patrolled in this dorm for the past hour, he had seen no signs of him, and judging from the space in the shoe rack, it seems that he really went out. But where to? He made a bold guess that he told no one else, and immediately reaching for his phone to get the number of the missing person. The other end starts to ring as he dials the number, squeezing his eyes shut as he wishes he wouldn't hang up the call.

Then the transition tone got cut off, replaced by (thankfully, like thank you Jesus) a voice. "Did you need anything?"

His lips part, but no words come out - he could hear the shakiness in his voice, and he swears to god it is the first time he ever heard his voice like so. It hits him without a word, silently - he could almost picture how vulnerable he must have been being through all this, and he is out there somewhere, in the unknown streets, right in the cold, lost. His heart almost pains at the thought, and his voice turns soft, ignoring what he had said in the following half of the sentence when it is obviously something to trick him into thinking he is okay.

"Hyung..." he holds down the urge to tear up, voice softens the more he speaks into the other end of the phone. "Where are you hyung, let me pick you up hm?" He looks outside the window as if it can give him an answer to where he is, but the fact is he just wants to bring him home, to make sure he is safe within his watch. "I am worried, please come home...please? Let me take you home."

@『 ✮ 』sungjoo bae。 [ date: december 5, 2020 ]

For some reason, Yeonwol finds himself sitting in the space between two vending machines at ungodly hours in God knows where. It's pitiful, he knows — the way he fits so easily in between; the way his knees are pulled to his chest, long limbs trying to hide themselves from plain sight; the way the streets in front of him are familiar and yet like always he can't exactly pinpoint where he is. Like always, he's lost — but this time, it's accompanied by a void in his chest so heavy it makes him feel as if there's something trying to suffocate him; this time, it's with the fact that he doesn't know who to call for, now.

Even this feeling is familiar. He clutches onto his chest, torso bent forward as he rests his forhead on top of his knees. This feeling claws at his insides, threatening to tear him apart without mercy. His lips part, and he tries to /breathe/. He tries to breathe, even when his shoulders sutter, even when the rise and fall of his chest deepens.

It's only after a few moments later that he realizes he's crying, when he finally feels the wetness of his shirt, of the fabric of his pants by his thighs. His own sobs now reach his ears, and he's quick to place a hand against his mouth, trying to silence his cries.

/No one has to know. No one has to hear./

His heart isn't used to such overwhelming emotions, too used to being unfeeling, too used to being detached — because the less feelings he feels, the higher his chances of winning this... /game/ that he decided to play so many years ago. The game he plays to keep people at an arm's length — because the father they are, the less chances he has of feeling attached. And for the first time he let his guard down, he forgot about pain. He forgot about hurting others.

Until his own fears began eating at him, easily pushing him back inside the walls he's built around himself.

Until his own fears made him hurt the people he loves.

Until his own fears caused him his own heartbreak.

/This/ is the reason why he's never wanted to let his guards down. It's why he pushed the others away instead of letting them in. It's why he decided to hurt instead of be hurt, and yet—

—he's hurt Sanghoon, hasn't he? He should have won! But why does it break /him/ more than it should have?

His phone vibrates inside his bag, and he sniffs, trying to calm the fast pace of his heart before he rummages his bag for the device. His eyes can barely register the words that appear on the screen: texts from his band members, his manager, asking him where he is (or he thinks that's what those texts mean — it's honestly getting harder to tell when his sight is becoming blurrier with each second and makes it harder for him to read what's usually already hard to read anyway).

He ignores all of it, but someone decides to call him at that very moment.

It's Sungjoo. Oh, God bless Sungjoo's pure heart, but Yeonwol doesn't truly feel like answering him. But he knows that the boy is stubborn — so he takes a deep breath, tries to blink his tears back, before answering the call.

"Did you need something?" comes his greeting instead of the normal hello, and his voice doesn't break yet, but it's unstable — and yet he ignores it regardless, pretends everything's fine, like his heart hasn't just been shattered into a million pieces and he has no idea how to bring them all back together. He doesn't think it's ever been whole in the first place. "As you can see... Well, I'm a little busy."