sundeyyy

[sundeyyy]

Where did the previous chapters of watch your back go? 🥹

Hey babes,those are up coming happy☺️

[sundeyyy]

——WATCH YOUR BACK

VI: THE PARTY

𝑃𝐴𝐼𝑅𝐼𝑁𝐺: BadBoys!Ateez x Broken!Reader

𝑊𝐶: 12.5K

𝑆𝑌𝑁𝑂𝑃𝑆𝐼𝑆: There's a party tonight. Everyone, including Yuji, was invited, but not you. Look on the bright side, Yuji wants to bring you as her plus one... even though everyone would rather you not be there. It's loud, it's chaotic, it's dangerous—something is definitely going to happen tonight.

𝑊𝐴𝑅𝑁𝐼𝑁𝐺𝑆: Bullying, Public humiliation, Under-age drinking, Drug use, Mental breakdowns, Profanity, Self-hate, Self-ridicule, Dark thoughts, Suicidal ideation, Physical violence, Emotional neglect, Institutional failure, Harassment, Verbal abuse, Mental health struggles, Runaway behavior, Isolation, Eating disorder mention, (lmk if I forgot anything).

𝐷𝐼𝑆𝐶𝐿𝐴𝐼𝑀𝐸𝑅: This series is not a representation of the idols as individuals and is to not be taken seriously. If you’re uncomfortable with the content in the series or on my page, then feel free to click off at any moment.

———————————————————————————————

You wake up to the faint gray light spilling through your curtains, your room quiet and still except for the ticking of the old clock on your desk. Fridays used to mean nothing more than the last hurdle before a quiet weekend. But today, there's something lingering in the air—an invitation to chaos disguised as a celebration.

You sit on the edge of your bed for a long time, staring at the half-finished drawing on your sketchpad. A girl with tired eyes, hollow and distant. You don't remember when you started drawing her, but somehow, she's always on the page. You glance at the outfit you picked out last night—something simple, unnoticeable. Safe.

In the mirror, your expression doesn't change when you tell yourself, "You're fine." It's automatic now. Like breathing.

⸻

School feels louder today. Not in actual volume, but in energy. Everyone's buzzing about the party—whispers in the halls, grins between friends, last-minute wardrobe plans shared over coffee cups.

You spot Yuji by your lockers, her face lighting up the moment she sees you. She's dressed with effortless cool, as always, and she nudges you playfully with her shoulder.

"You ready for tonight?" she grins. "I'm still figuring out what shoes I'm wearing, but you already know you're coming with me."

You try to force a smile. "Yeah... I guess."

Yuji gives you that look—the one that sees through your deflection. She opens her mouth to say something but then lets it go. Instead, she walks with you to the courtyard for breakfast, chatting to fill the space that your silence can't.

And all around you, the excitement builds. ____ The final bell hasn't even rung yet, but students are already packing up, buzzing with nervous excitement. Teachers barely bother trying to keep order; they know better. It's the kind of Friday where everyone's already halfway out the door mentally.

You sit in the back of your last class, staring out the window as the light softens. You've barely said a word all day. Even Yuji's been quieter than usual, sensing the heaviness in you. She passed you a note during class earlier that just said, "Still want to go?" You nodded.

You didn't want to disappoint her. She's the only one who makes this place feel slightly less unbearable.

Your heart races in a weird, restless way. It's not excitement. It's dread.

⸻

After class, Yuji ran to the restroom and told you she'd meet you at the front. You offered to go with her, but she smiled and said she'd be quick. So you wait, lingering by the lockers with your hoodie pulled low and your back against the wall.

That's when you hear them.

A small group of girls, rounding the corner, laughing.

"Is she seriously going to show up tonight?" "Right? I heard Yuji's bringing her. As what—her pity project?" "Bet she won't even drink. Probably just stand there and cry or something." "Oh my god, stop—she'll ruin the vibe." "No one even likes her. It's not like she's fun. Just sad."

You freeze. They don't see you yet, too wrapped up in their cruelty to notice. But the words hit anyway. They always do.

They pass, still laughing. You don't breathe until they're gone.

You turn slowly to the lockers, eyes stinging, and pretend to fumble with the lock even though you don't need anything. You stare at the metal, at your own warped reflection in it.

Sad. That word echoes in your head like a curse.

You bite the inside of your cheek hard enough to draw blood.

You'll still go to the party.

But maybe now... you'll actually drink. _____ You're at home now, sitting on the edge of your bed, staring at your closet like it might swallow you whole.

The door creaks open. Your mom peeks in, holding a folded hoodie you left in the dryer. "You heading somewhere tonight?" she asks gently, placing it on your dresser.

You nod, not looking at her. "Party."

She hesitates. "With Yuji?"

"Yeah."

She lingers in the doorway. "You sure you're up for it?"

"I said I'm fine," you snap before you can stop yourself. The words come out sharper than you intended.

There's a beat of silence. Her face flickers with that same quiet concern she's worn so often lately. "Okay. Just be safe, alright?"

You nod again, jaw tight.

As she leaves, she pauses—like she wants to say something else. But she doesn't. She closes the door softly behind her, and you're alone again.

Alone with your reflection in the darkened window. Alone with the dread sitting heavy in your chest. _____

The evening ahead looms like a shadow. You stand in front of your full-length mirror, your usual oversized hoodie hanging loosely from your frame, paired with ripped jeans. Your fingers absentmindedly trace the fabric as you catch a glimpse of yourself, focusing on the reflection that stares back at you with eyes you don't even recognize. It's like there's a stranger wearing your face.

You tug at the hem of your hoodie and glance away, not wanting to dwell too much on the reality that never seems to go away. Beneath your clothes, hidden from the world, are reminders of what you've been through. The scars you've worked so hard to keep out of sight. The ones no one can see.

The house feels quieter now. Your mom's gone, leaving you alone in the space. For a moment, you wonder if it's better this way, but then you catch yourself. You don't even want to be left with your own thoughts. The silence in your room seems deafening, pressing against your skin.

You grab your phone, mindlessly scrolling through messages, checking if anything important has come in. Yuji sent a text asking if you're still up for the party. You know you should reply, but something holds you back. Maybe it's the idea of being surrounded by people, maybe it's the tension of fitting in. You're not sure.

You pull the hoodie tighter, zipping it up halfway to shield yourself from the cold, even though the night hasn't fully settled in. As you walk out of your room and head downstairs, the familiar sensation of uncertainty twists in your stomach. _____

You're sitting on your front porch, your knees pulled up to your chest, wrapped in the familiar comfort of your oversized hoodie. The cool evening air nips at your skin, but it's the kind of cold that feels almost... grounding. It's a quiet moment, with only the distant hum of cars and the rustle of leaves. You focus on the stars above, the soft glow of the porch light illuminating the worn edges of the steps beneath you.

Your mind is still tangled, and the hum of the world outside feels like a distant, muted sound. You're trying to shake off the thoughts gnawing at you, but they're persistent, like they always are.

The sound of a car pulling up breaks your concentration. You glance up just in time to see Yuji's car coast to a stop by the curb, her headlights casting a soft glow over the sidewalk.

You stand, brushing yourself off, but before you can move, a familiar voice calls out, "Hey, you ready?"

You can't help but smile, though it's a tight one. "Yeah," you reply, trying to shake off the unease you feel.

Yuji grins at you, her gaze flicking briefly over your appearance—your usual outfit, your quiet demeanor, the way you carry yourself. "You look good, you know. Let's have fun tonight."

You don't respond right away. Instead, you just give her a small nod before slipping into the passenger seat of her car, and as the door shuts, you feel that familiar weight settle in your chest again. The one that's always there, quietly heavy but never quite enough to stop you from moving forward.

————

The party is chaotic. The music blares through the speakers, lights flashing in time with the beat, and people are scattered everywhere, socializing, laughing, and drinking. It's supposed to be a fun, carefree atmosphere, but you feel completely out of place.

The noise is overwhelming, and the crowd around you is a blur of excitement and energy. The contrast between the liveliness of the party and your own internal isolation is striking. Everyone is engaged in their own world, yet you feel completely disconnected. You try to fit in, but no matter how hard you try, it feels like you're fading into the background.

Yuji notices your withdrawal and walks over with a concerned smile. "Hey, are you okay?" she asks gently, her voice cutting through the noise. You nod and force a smile, but the weight inside you doesn't lighten.

"Yeah, just... a bit overwhelmed," you mutter. Yuji seems to sense that you're not really fine, but she doesn't press. Instead, she suggests, "Let's grab some water. You'll feel better."

You nod again, appreciating that she's not pushing alcohol on you. Yuji leads you to the side of the house where a table of drinks is set up, but she grabs a bottle of water, handing it to you with a friendly, reassuring smile. "Here, just drink some water. Trust me, it'll help."

You take the water from her, feeling both comforted and distant. You take a sip, but it doesn't feel like enough to fill the emptiness gnawing at you. This isn't helping... maybe you need some stronger.

⸻

You take another sip from your cup, once filled water, now is filled with whatever alcohol that was provided. You spot Ateez in the corner of the room. They're surrounded by a group of girls, laughing and talking, not even noticing you. They're ignoring you.

You try not to feel hurt, but it stings, deep down. They don't care about you.

You look away, trying to shake the thoughts. It doesn't matter, right?

But the more you try to block it out, the more the isolation sets in. You stand there, Yuji chatting with a few people, but you can't seem to make sense of the noise and energy around you. This isn't your world.

⸻

As the night wears on, the lights blur into colors, and the music thuds in your chest like a second heartbeat. The alcohol in your cup was now the 6th or 7th cup you had tonight, barely keeping yourself together. You take another sip, hoping—desperately—that it'll soothe the ache. It doesn't, You need more.

You glance around the room. People are laughing, dancing, disappearing into hallways. In the kitchen, you spot someone pouring liquor into red cups. On the couch, a group passes a joint between them, their laughter slack and lazy. The party swallows them whole—and you want to disappear into it too.

You hesitate at first. But then you remember how heavy everything still feels. How long it's been this way.

Another drink won't kill me.

The alcohol goes down like water, less bitter but now familiar, like a close friend. You try and catch breath after you just gulped down your 8th cup alcohol, but someone hands you another. You don't even ask what's in it.

Then you feel it. Time starts to loosen. Your skin feels lighter, thoughts more distant. You laugh at something that's not funny. Your legs feel warm. Numb.

You barely notice when you take a hit of something passed to you—something that dulls your chest even more, something that muffles the pain like cotton in your ears.

For a moment, it works. Everything is quiet. You float.

But it's short-lived.

From the corner of your hazy vision, a group of girls from school walks by. You barely recognize them at first. Their laughter is sharp, loud—directed at you.

"Oh, look who it is," one of them sneers, eyes raking over your unsteady form. "Did you really think you'd be one of us?"

You try to stand straighter, but your limbs don't cooperate. The alcohol and whatever else you took fog your movements.

"She's wasted," another laughs. "What a joke."

They don't see pain. They see spectacle.

"Just go home," someone snaps. "No one wants you here."

The words don't hit like before—they sink. They sink into your bones and swirl with the chemicals already in your bloodstream. Everything inside you twists. You don't even have the energy to fight back.

You feel your heart drop in slow motion. You look for Yuji, but the crowd's moving, shifting. And for the first time tonight, you're not sure she'll find you in this mess.

⸻

You stumble back from the girls' voices, their laughter chasing you through the pulsing beat of the party. You don't remember where you dropped your cup. Or when your breathing started to get shallow. All you know is the burning in your throat and the way your skin feels too tight, like it doesn't belong to you anymore.

More drinks. More smoke. You don't even register how much.

Someone shoves a phone in your face, laughing. "Damn, she's gone. Look at her—freaking wrecked."

You blink slowly. Everything's melting—walls, people, noise. You try to laugh, but your face doesn't work the way it should.

Another flash. Another camera. Another voice: "Go on, do something crazy! Come on, we're filming!"

They're not seeing you. They're seeing a mess to exploit.

And you give them what they want.

"Fuck off!" you yell, staggering forward. The words slur together, more bark than bite. But the moment the crowd senses a show, they circle closer, phones raised like weapons.

"Get a load of her—she's losing it!" "What did she take?" "This is going on Live!"

Then a voice breaks through it all.

"Y/N!" Yuji's voice. Panicked. She pushes through the crowd, her face pale, eyes wide. "Y/N, stop. You're not okay."

She grabs your arm, gently, trying to guide you out. "Let's go. Please."

But her touch—warm, soft, familiar—feels like a threat in this moment of numbness.

You snap.

"Don't touch me!" you scream, shoving her hard. She stumbles back, but you're already charging forward again, dizzy with rage and poison and heartbreak. "I don't need you! I never needed you!"

She steps forward again, her voice trembling. "Y/N, please, you don't mean that—"

Your fist flies before you can stop it.

Yuji gasps as your knuckles connect with her cheek. The crowd goes silent, stunned, before erupting again with gasps and screams. Phones are everywhere. People rush to Yuji's side.

"Holy shit!" "She just hit her!" "Is this real?!"

You freeze.

Yuji's sitting on the floor now, cradling her cheek, eyes glossy and wide—not just from pain, but from shock. You've never seen her look like that. Like you'd broken something too precious to fix.

You take a step back. Everyone's watching. Recording. Whispering. Judging.

And so you run out.

Cold air hitting your face like a slap. Yuji's voice calls after you—but it only makes your shame grow louder.

"Y/N! Please, wait—let me drive you home!"

But you spin on her, screaming from somewhere deep and broken:

"Fuck off! Leave me alone! I don't need you—I fucking hate you!"

Yuji flinches. Tears streak her cheeks. She doesn't chase you this time.

The crowd watches in stunned silence as you storm off into the darkness. No destination. No direction. Just the aching need to get away.

You don't go home. You don't answer your phone. You disappear. ______

You don't know where you're going.

The night air bites at your skin as you keep walking—past houses, past streets you don't recognize, past the echo of your own name in someone's voice behind you. Maybe it was Yuji. Maybe not. You don't look back.

Your fists are clenched, your jaw locked. Everything aches—your head, your stomach, your chest. Your heart most of all. You don't even know how long you've been walking. Hours maybe. Your phone won't stop buzzing in your pocket. Your mom. Yuji. Over and over. You don't look at the screen.

There's dried blood on your knuckles. You're not even sure if it's from hitting someone... or something... or maybe just falling. People saw everything. They filmed everything. Your breakdown. The yelling. The punch. The screaming. The way you told the one person who actually gave a damn to fuck off like she was the enemy.

Now you're just wandering, unsure if you're trying to run away from something—or toward something. Eventually, the lights of the city start to fade. There's no sound except your breathing and the occasional car in the distance.

Then you see it.

An old, abandoned train yard just beyond the fence. The wire is bent in one corner, like someone's already pushed their way through before. You hesitate only for a second before squeezing yourself through.

Inside, it's quiet. Heavy. Still.

You climb into one of the rusted-out cars, the metal groaning beneath your weight. It smells like dust and cold air. You sit in the corner and pull your knees to your chest.

And then you finally check your phone.

34 missed calls. 17 texts.

You read none of them. You turn it off.

Silence again.

There's nothing left to do. So you sit there, broken and numb, and let the weight of everything crush you in the dark. ______ The silence is different out here.

You've stopped checking your phone. The endless buzzing from your mom, from Yuji—it's dulled to background static you've trained yourself to ignore. Your body is sore. Clothes still cling to the scent of alcohol and sweat and cigarette smoke from last night's chaos. You didn't cry. You didn't scream again. You just walked. And now here you are.

Curled up in the corner of a rusted train car, cold metal pressed against your back, the early morning fog creeping in through the broken doorframe. Everything feels numb. Your mind flickers in and out, like it can't decide if it wants to think or shut down entirely.

You press your knees to your chest and bury your face. You feel... small.

Unseen.

Unloved.

Unworthy.

And worst of all—you're starting to believe it.

Why did I do that to Yuji...

Your stomach churns again, but you're too tired to move. You haven't eaten since that single bite of sandwich Yuji begged you to take. Your throat is raw. Your knuckles are scraped from god knows what.

You don't even remember how you got here.

The hours since the party have melted together. Faces you don't want to remember. Laughter that wasn't with you, but at you. That hollow feeling inside you, growing louder.

You hear a dog barking far away. A train horn groans in the distance. But everything still feels distant—like you're not really here. Just stuck in the space between existing and disappearing.

You tell yourself you'll get up soon.

You don't.

The silence was deafening.

Wind swept through the rusted train cars, their metallic creaks echoing like ghosts. You sat hunched in one of them, arms around your knees, head buried. The ground beneath you was cold, gravel pressing into your skin through the thin fabric of your jeans. You hadn't moved much in hours—just breathing, just existing. And even that felt like too much.

Your phone buzzed again. You didn't check it. You knew it was your mom. Maybe Yuji. Maybe both. You let it buzz until it stopped, then let the silence flood in again. It felt easier not to answer. Not to explain. Not to feel the weight of someone else's worry when your own was already suffocating.

You were tired of being the burden. Tired of the looks. Tired of trying. Tired of pretending like everything wasn't caving in.

You stared at the cracked window beside you, the sky fading into dusk. You wondered if anyone really knew what it felt like to be surrounded and yet still be so completely alone.

Your stomach growled, but you ignored it. You barely eating anything anyway.

So it didn't matter.

Nothing really did.

At one point, you stepped outside the train car. The night air was sharp, biting. You walked along the tracks in the dark, the rhythmic clink of your shoes on metal a strange comfort. This place—the isolation, the emptiness—matched how you felt inside. It felt more like home than home ever had.

You didn't cry. Not until you sat down again. Not until the weight of everything finally cracked the numbness like shattered glass. Tears slipped down silently. No sobs. No gasps. Just quiet, tired tears.

You wanted to disappear. To die. To vanish. To stop being a problem.

But you didn't. You just stayed. Alone. ______

The sky was bleeding orange and purple as Sunday evening settled in, soft light spilling over the rusted walls of the train yard. You were still there—curled up in the same spot, blanketless, foodless, and aching in places you couldn't touch. Your body hurt. Your head throbbed. But your heart... your heart felt empty, like someone had scooped it out and left nothing in its place.

Your phone buzzed again.

You didn't even flinch this time. You'd stopped checking a while ago, though the battery was almost gone now. Just 3%. You let the screen go dark and stared out of the cracked opening in the train door.

You could hear the faint hum of traffic in the distance. Life was going on outside this forgotten place. People were eating dinner. Families were arguing over TV shows. Yuji was probably lying in her bed, still crying, or maybe she'd given up on you too.

A part of you wondered if she hated you now. Another part hoped she did. It'd be easier that way. Easier if she let you go, like everyone else eventually had.

Your stomach clenched again. You hadn't eaten in nearly three days, and your body was starting to slow down, heavy and sluggish. But the hunger didn't bother you anymore. It felt deserved. It felt earned.

You leaned your head back against the metal wall and stared at the fading sky. A breeze slipped through the cracks, brushing against your skin like a whisper.

It was quiet again. Peaceful in the way that loneliness can be when you've accepted it as the only constant.

And for the first time all weekend, you whispered something aloud to no one:

"Maybe this is all I deserve."

The words hung there like a truth you'd always known but never said. And in the stillness, the weight of it settled deeper into your bones.

The stars began to peek out one by one as the last of the sun dipped beneath the skyline. The abandoned train yard had grown colder, the wind biting sharper now as it slipped through the metal and broken glass. You wrapped your arms around yourself tighter, but it didn't help much.

The world felt distant.

The hum of life you once clung to had dulled into a low, muffled blur. No voices. No music. No Yuji. Just the sound of your own breathing, slow and shallow, echoing against the metal walls like a reminder that you were still here—barely.

Your phone had finally died. The silence it left behind was deafening.

Somewhere deep in the city, laughter echoed faintly. You pressed your forehead to your knees, eyes stinging. You wanted to cry, but the tears wouldn't come anymore. Maybe you'd used them all up.

A piece of broken mirror lay a few feet away, catching a shard of moonlight. You stared at it for a long time.

And when you finally crawled over to look into it, what stared back didn't look like you. Your face was hollow. Eyes sunken. Skin pale and bruised from exhaustion. Your lips were cracked. Your clothes rumpled. You looked... ghostly. Like a memory someone forgot to bury.

You didn't recognize yourself.

And maybe that was the scariest part— You weren't sure when you'd started disappearing. But it was happening. Slowly, painfully. Like a slow fade into nothing.

You laid back down on the cold, hard floor, staring up at the dark ceiling of the train car.

And for a fleeting moment, you wondered if anyone would even notice if you never came back.

The metal beneath you was freezing now. Hours had passed—maybe more. Time didn't feel real out here. It was just one long blur of numb silence, darkness, and the occasional sound of a passing car in the distance that reminded you the world still existed beyond these rusted walls.

You hadn't eaten since Friday.

Your stomach had stopped growling a while ago. Now it just ached—a dull, hollow throb that matched the pounding in your head. Every muscle in your body felt sore, like it was protesting your refusal to care.

You sat up slowly, dizzy, eyes adjusting to the moonlight leaking through a jagged hole in the ceiling. Dust floated through the beam like tiny ghosts.

You hugged your knees to your chest and let out a shaky breath, your lips barely parting as the cold seeped deeper into your bones.

Everything felt far away—your house, your bed, your mom, Yuji... especially Yuji.

You replayed it all in your head for what must've been the hundredth time.

Her face after you hit her. The way she cried when you screamed at her to leave. The way she still tried to help you, even then.

And you? You left her there. You left everyone.

A sharp pain bloomed in your chest as guilt curled in your gut like a living thing. You rubbed your arm without thinking—right over the scarred skin you always kept hidden. The reminder burned beneath your hoodie.

You didn't mean to hurt her. You just wanted to hurt less.

The train yard was silent, but inside your head, it was deafening.

That broken mirror from before still sat nearby. You crawled over to it again, kneeling in front of it like it might have some kind of answer. Your reflection didn't speak.

You looked at her—at you—and whispered the one thing you hadn't let yourself say all weekend:

"I don't want to feel like this anymore."

Your voice cracked.

No one answered.

You curled up again and laid your head on the cold metal floor, watching your breath mist in the air. You knew you couldn't stay here much longer. Your body was shutting down. And somewhere, deep down, the part of you that still wanted to live—it was whispering.

But it was faint.

So you closed your eyes, not to sleep, but to escape for just a little longer. Just one more night alone, before you figured out whether or not you could go back. _______ You wake up stiff and sore, the cold metal beneath you unforgiving. Your hoodie doesn't do much against the chill anymore, and your body aches from sleeping on rusted metal floors. You stretch your fingers, the tips numb, your eyes blinking slowly against the pale grey light.

There's silence except for the distant hum of the city waking up somewhere far off. It feels like another world—one you're not ready to rejoin.

Your phone is dead now. Not that you'd check it if it wasn't. Too many missed calls. Too many questions.

You sit up slowly, muscles heavy, and peer out of the train car. Nothing has changed. But somehow, you feel like something inside you did. Not in a healing way—more like something cracked deeper.

You run your fingers over your wrist through the sleeves. You haven't cried. Not once. Not even when your stomach twisted with hunger, or when you thought about your mom's voice or Yuji's face, or when the night air felt like it might swallow you whole.

It's Monday.

And now... you have to pretend you weren't just here. _______ You step onto school grounds, the cold air stinging your skin harder than it should. The moment your foot hits the pavement, it's like the world shifts.

Police cars are parked outside the front office. Students linger around in clusters, buzzing like bees stirred from their hive. Some are on their phones. Some are whispering. Others are blatantly staring at you.

Because they all know.

Your name spread through the school like wildfire this morning—Missing Girl Found. You hadn't answered your mom's calls. Yuji couldn't reach you. You disappeared for an entire weekend, and now the cops are here. Just in case. Just to ask questions.

Just to look at you like you're fragile glass that might shatter on contact.

The principal's eyes widen when they spot you walking through the entrance, clothes slightly rumpled, your hoodie sleeves pulled low over your hands. A counselor stands nearby, whispering something to one of the officers. You feel it before you hear it:

"Is that her?"

Yuji is already in the hallway. Her eyes are red-rimmed from lack of sleep. The moment your eyes meet, her mouth parts—like she wants to say something. But you walk past her.

You don't say a word.

All around you, people are watching. Judging. Whispering.

"She really ran off..." "I heard that someone saw her in an abandoned train yard." "Why would anyone do that?" "Attention-seeking." "Nah, I think she's just insane."

The walls feel like they're closing in again.

You walk faster.

The hallway was now dead silent. Conversations halt, heads turn, and the weight of a hundred stares crashes down on your shoulders.

You're barely a few steps in when a stern voice cuts through the tension.

"Y/N. Come with us."

You look up.

Ms. Harper—the school counselor—isn't smiling this time. Her usual warmth is gone, replaced with professional coldness. Next to her stands a tall police officer with his arms crossed and eyes sharp.

You follow them in silence. Down the long hallway. Past whispers and poorly disguised stares.

They lead you into a small office that feels colder than you remember.

The door shuts behind you with a heavy thud.

"You've been missing for three days," the officer starts, not bothering to sit. "You caused a panic. You know that, right?"

You say nothing.

Ms. Harper folds her arms across her chest. "You're lucky this isn't worse, Y/N. The things people saw at that party—the way you acted—what were you thinking?"

Still, silence.

The officer steps forward. "Where were you?"

You stare past them. Eyes unfocused. Mouth shut.

"Answer the question," he says, his tone dropping lower. "We can't help you if you don't speak."

Ms. Harper sighs sharply, the disappointment in her voice unmistakable. "Is this how you want to handle things? Keep making a mess and letting everyone else clean it up?"

Your heart races, but your face doesn't move.

"Were you on anything? Did you taking something?" the officer asks. "Do you even care what you put your mother through?"

You blink, once.

Still no answer.

"Unbelievable," Ms. Harper mutters. "We should've expected this from you."

Just then, a knock sounds at the door. A secretary pokes her head in, eyes wide. "Her mom's here."

The officer exhales through his nose and steps back. Ms. Harper nods curtly. "Bring her in."

Seconds later, the door opens again—and there she is.

Your mom.

Her eyes are glassy, red-rimmed, exhausted. But when she sees you—sitting there, stone-faced and silent—her expression crumbles.

She rushes to you, kneeling down beside the chair and cupping your face.

"Oh my God, Y/N," she whispers. "You're okay... You're okay..."

Your lip trembles, just for a second.

But you don't speak.

You haven't said a word.

Her hands are warm against your face. Gentle. Shaking.

She's holding you like you're fragile. Like you might disappear again.

But you can't do it.

You can't let her touch you.

You pull away—sharply.

The room stills.

Your mom freezes for a moment, confusion flashing in her eyes. "Y/N...?"

You don't answer. You can't. You don't even look at her.

You just sit there, jaw clenched, eyes fixed on the floor.

The officer exhales through his nose, muttering under his breath, "Figures."

Ms. Harper doesn't hide her irritation. She gives your mom a pitying glance before speaking. "She hasn't said a word since she walked in. Refuses to answer a single question. I hope you can get through to her."

Your mom slowly stands, clearly hurt, but trying not to show it. The silence hangs heavy. Thick. Condemning.

The officer shakes his head. "You went missing, caused a scene, assaulted someone, and still can't take responsibility for any of it."

You stare blankly at the corner of the desk.

They see a girl who doesn't care.

A girl who ran away, caused chaos, and won't even show remorse.

No one sees the numbness swallowing you whole.

Only your mom lingers—quiet, shaken—but even she doesn't move closer again.

They all look at you like you're the problem.

And maybe you are.

The counselor straightens her posture with a sigh, then glances at your mom. "She shouldn't be here today. Not in this condition."

Your mom nods hesitantly, still clearly rattled. "I'll take her home."

The officer doesn't object, just grunts and steps aside as your mom quietly thanks them and moves toward you.

You don't resist, but you don't cooperate either. You let her lead you out of the room, eyes down, ignoring the stares from passing students in the hall.

They're whispering. Of course they are.

Some stop mid-conversation to watch. Others smirk, muttering your name like it's a punchline.

Once outside, the sunlight feels wrong—too bright, too harsh.

And still, not a word passes between you and your mom.

The car ride home is silent. Tense. Like even the air doesn't know what to say.

You just press your forehead against the window, shutting your eyes, pretending you're anywhere else.

You don't say a word the entire car ride home. Your mom glances at you every few minutes, her knuckles white around the steering wheel, but she doesn't speak either. The silence is loud, aching.

When you walk through the front door, the familiar scent of home hits you like a punch to the chest—but it feels foreign now, almost taunting.

"You should eat something," your mom says quietly, setting her keys on the counter.

You don't answer. You don't even look at her. Instead, you head straight for your room, shutting the door behind you with a soft click. Not a slam. Just enough to draw a line.

Your room looks the same as when you left, but somehow it feels smaller. Heavier.

You sit on the edge of your bed, staring at the floor. You hear your mom moving around in the kitchen, opening a cabinet. Then, nothing.

A minute passes. Then five. Then ten.

A knock. Soft, hesitant. "Can I come in?"

You don't respond. She opens the door anyway, a plate in her hands—something warm. Comfort food. You can't even look at it.

She sets it down on your desk, eyes searching your face. "You can hate me, if you need to. You can scream at me. Just—please don't shut me out completely."

You turn your head away, jaw tight.

She lingers in the doorway for a long moment before sighing and leaving again.

You wait until you're sure she's gone before you pull your hoodie tighter around you and lie down, curled in on yourself. You don't cry. You don't sleep. You just... lie there. Empty. ______ The soft buzz of your phone is like a mosquito in the quiet—persistent, small, impossible to ignore. It's facedown on your nightstand, but you can still see the faint glow leaking out beneath it every time a new message comes in.

You haven't touched it since you got home. You don't need to. You already know who it's from.

Yuji.

The girl who tried to help you. The girl you hurt anyway.

YUJI 10:47 a.m. – "I'm glad you're okay." 1:13 p.m. – "I don't know if you want to talk to me, but I'm here." 4:02 p.m. – "Please just let me know if you're okay..."

Each message is a reminder of how badly you screwed things up. How even the people who want to care about you eventually learn that maybe you're not worth it.

The screen lights up again. Your eyes flick over automatically.

YUJI 6:58 p.m. – "I don't hate you, you know."

That one stings.

You slowly sit up in bed, blanket pooled around your waist. The walls of your room feel like they're pressing in a little. It's too quiet. You hate how quiet it is. The silence doesn't feel safe. It feels loud. Echoing.

You pull your knees to your chest, arms wrapping around them tightly, like you're trying to hold yourself together physically because emotionally, you're splintering.

You told Yuji you hated her. You told her to leave. You screamed in her face with everyone watching. You punched her.

And she still doesn't hate you.

Your chest tightens. You wish she did. It would make everything easier.

You finally flip the phone over, hands trembling. The screen is filled with her name—line after line of gentle attempts, careful words, unconditional support.

You could text her back.

You could tell her you're sorry.

But your fingers won't move. You just sit there, staring until your vision starts to blur again. It builds slowly—the ache, the regret, the crushing weight of knowing you're the reason for someone else's pain.

You hate yourself.

And it's not loud or dramatic. It's quiet. Quiet like a rot. Quiet like decay. The kind of hate that nestles into your bones and tells you not to reach out. Not to hope. Not to try.

Your eyes sting. You curl into yourself, turning away from the phone, from the light, from everything.

Your breath hitches. Then it breaks. You cry quietly, biting down on your lip so hard it aches. Your tears sink into the pillow as you press your face into it to muffle the sobs. You don't want your mom to hear. You don't want anyone to hear. You just want to be alone.

Eventually, you stop crying—not because you feel better, but because you're empty. And you lay there in the silence, wondering how you can feel so heavy and so hollow all at once.

You sit on your bed in silence, your hoodie sleeves tugged all the way down over your hands, covering the scars even now, even here—because somehow you still feel watched. Your body aches, not from anything physical, but from the weight of the shame pressing into every inch of your skin. Your phone is beside you.

Black screen. You haven't turned it on in hours, not since you watched one of the many videos of yourself from the party.

They were laughing. You were crying. Screaming. Lost.

You see your mom's shadow pass by your doorway. She doesn't say anything. You didn't say anything either when she tried to hug you at school and you pulled away. Everyone saw. Everyone whispered. And now even the silence at home is loud.

You think about texting Yuji, typing then deleting a hundred different versions of "I'm sorry" and "I didn't mean it." But in the end, you don't send anything.

Because what if she really hates you now?

⸻

YUJI'S POV

Yuji lies on her bed, arms over her face, trying not to cry again. Her cheek is still tender, makeup doing little to hide the bruise that bloomed after the hit. But the physical pain doesn't bother her.

What hurts more is the look on your face when you screamed at her—the way you looked like you wanted to disappear.

She hasn't stopped worrying about you since the moment you ran off. When the school called to say you'd been found, she cried with relief. But when she saw you again, and you didn't even look at her... that broke something.

Still, she keeps sending messages.

—"I don't hate you." —"Please just talk to me." —"I know you're hurting, but I'm still here."

No responses.

She stares at her phone, heart aching, hoping that eventually you'll read them and understand: she never stopped caring. Not even when you pushed her away. ______ ATEEZ'S POV

The air is still thick with silence, but the weight of that night is pushing everything to the surface.

Mingi, who had been pacing earlier, suddenly stops. "You remember why we started hating her?"

Yeosang looks over. "Because of that guy . The one you—"

Mingi interrupts, voice low. "Yeah. That guy I threatened."

There's no anger in his tone now—just regret.

Hongjoong leans forward, elbows on his knees. "She called us out. Said we weren't as powerful as we thought. And then she—" He half-laughs, "—roasted the hell out of us in front of everyone."

San lets out a breath. "No one had ever talked to us like that."

Jongho shrugs. "We were pissed. Embarrassed. Our egos took the hit, so we lashed out."

Wooyoung murmurs, "She stood up for someone who couldn't defend themselves. And we made her pay for it."

Seonghwa, quietly says "We hated her for doing the right thing."

They all pause at that.

Yeosang adds, "I think the hate turned into something else when we started realizing she wasn't scared of us."

San, after a beat "And she never begged us to stop. Not once."

Mingi looks down. "I didn't expect to... start noticing everything about her. The way she never smiled. The way she flinched at sudden noise. The way she always sat alone sometimes, like she didn't trust anyone to stay."

Wooyoung, half a whisper: "I thought about her every night after she yelled at us. I hated that she got under my skin."

Hongjoong, voice heavier now "And now she's breaking in front of everyone... and we let it happen."

Jongho clenches his jaw. "We were so busy defending our pride, we didn't see the damage we were doing."

Seonghwa looks at the floor. "The way she looked at Yuji before she left... like she was already gone."

Yeosang, softly "We failed her."

There's a long silence again, thick with realization.

Wooyoung, serious now "If we don't do something now, we might lose her for real."

Hongjoong gives a small nod. "Then let's fix it. Even if she hates us. Even if it's too late." _______ YOUR POV

Your room is dark, the only light coming from the dull glow of the streetlamp leaking through your curtains. The house has been quiet for hours, but sleep won't come. You're still on the floor, curled up in the corner between your bed and dresser, wrapped in your hoodie like armor. It's cold, but not cold enough to explain the shivers.

Your phone sits untouched, battery drained. You didn't bother plugging it in.

You keep thinking about everything and nothing—Yuji's tear-streaked face, the crowd's laughter, the ache in your throat after throwing up, the way the train yard smelled like rust and loneliness. How it almost felt safer than being seen.

Then there's a sound.

Knock knock.

You freeze.

It's soft. Hesitant.

"Sweetheart?" your mom's voice calls gently through the door. "Can I come in?"

You say nothing.

There's a pause, and then the handle turns slightly, but the door doesn't open.

"I'm not here to lecture you. I just..." her voice falters. "I just want to know you're okay."

You keep your face turned toward the wall, pressing your cheek against your knees. You don't want her to see you like this. You don't want anyone to.

"I made some tea," she adds after a moment, voice quieter. "I'll leave a cup outside the door. In case you get cold."

A beat passes. You think she's gone.

But then she says, barely above a whisper, "I was so scared, Y/N. Please don't shut me out."

The footsteps retreat down the hall. A soft clink tells you she really did leave a cup.

You stare into the dark for a long time after that. You don't move. You don't cry.

You just stay there, listening to the silence press in again.

The room is still.

You sit frozen long after your mom walks away, the silence wrapping around you like fog. Her words echo in your ears—Please don't shut me out.

You didn't answer. You couldn't.

But now there's a tightness in your chest. Not guilt exactly, just... something heavy and complicated. You shift slightly. Your body aches from staying curled up on the floor for too long, but you don't want to get up. You don't deserve comfort, right?

Still, minutes pass. Maybe longer. The cold seeps into your bones, and your throat is dry. You try to ignore it.

Eventually, cautiously, you rise—just a little—and creep over to the door. You open it slowly, barely an inch, and peek out. The hallway is dim, quiet. There's a single mug sitting neatly on the floor. Steam no longer rises from it, but it's still warm when you pick it up.

You don't say anything. You don't go far. Just stand there in your doorway for a while, holding the cup like it might fall if you let yourself think too much.

The house feels haunted—but not by ghosts. By memories.

You glance toward your mom's room. The door is closed, but a faint light glows from beneath it. She's probably awake, waiting. Just in case.

You take a tiny sip of the tea—barely a taste—and then slip back into your room, closing the door behind you.

It's not much. But it's something. ______ YOUR MOM'S POV

She stands behind her daughter's bedroom door, hand still on the knob.

She doesn't move, doesn't breathe for a second—just listens. Hoping. Waiting for the smallest sound. A footstep. A creak. Anything.

But all she hears is silence.

That same kind of silence that's filled the house ever since Friday night. Only now, it feels heavier. Sharper. Because her daughter is finally home—but somehow feels farther away than when she was missing.

She sinks onto the edge of her bed, staring at her phone. A dozen texts still unread. Her own calls unanswered. The police report is closed, but her worry isn't.

God, her baby girl looked so thin.

She bites her lip hard, trying not to cry. The bruises under her daughter's eyes. The dullness in them. The way she flinched when she reached out.

She left the tea outside because it's all she can do. Because barging in might just shatter the fragile thread between them for good. So she just... waits.

And then—a sound. The softest creak of the door hinge.

Her chest tightens as she leans slightly toward the hall. She doesn't open her door. She doesn't speak. But she watches the faint shadow beneath it shift for a moment.

Then nothing.

Still, her heart lifts a little.

She got the tea.

It's not everything. It's not a fix. But it means her daughter opened the door. That she came out—even just for a second.

And so, for tonight, that's enough.

She leaves her lamp on, just in case her baby needs her. She sleeps facing the door, even though her eyes won't stay shut for long.

Because even if her daughter won't say it out loud...

She knows she's still fighting. ______ Y/N's POV

You walk into the school building, head down, hoodie up, trying to disappear into the hallway walls like usual. But something feels off. People aren't just staring—they're smirking, laughing, nudging each other. You don't understand why until you reach your locker.

Your feet stop cold.

Your locker is covered in sharp, ugly handwriting. Thick marker and pen scratches scream across the metal door:

"Whore." "Attention seeker." "Should've stayed gone." "Everyone was happier without you." "You're not sick, you're just pathetic." "Maybe next time, don't come back."

There are hearts drawn next to the insults. Smiley faces. Some of it is in different handwriting. Multiple people added to it.

You just stand there, frozen. The air leaves your lungs.

Behind you, a crowd has formed. Snickers. Whispers. Loud laughter. Someone snaps a photo.

You don't even flinch.

Then the crowd splits slightly as Yuji arrives, pushing through. Her face shifts instantly when she sees the locker. Her eyes dart to you, then to the writing, then to the people standing around. "What the hell is this?"

Not even a second later, Ateez walks in, loud and casual—until they see it too. One by one, their expressions fall. Mingi's smirk fades. San stiffens. Wooyoung actually stops in his tracks. Even Hongjoong's usual cool demeanor is rattled. None of them speak, but it's clear they weren't expecting this.

That's when the counselor appears from around the corner. She must have heard the noise. "What is going on out here?"

She stops short when she sees your locker.

Her face tightens, voice sharp. "Who did this? Who's responsible?"

No one answers.

There's only stifled laughter and muffled giggles.

The counselor's eyes sweep over the students. "This isn't funny. You think humiliating someone is a joke?"

Still no response.

Yuji steps closer to you, silent, furious. Ateez watches, a strange kind of guilt passing between them.

And you? You're just standing there, numb, eyes locked on the word "worthless" scribbled across the lock.

The second the counselor turns her back, distracted by questioning a group of students, you walk. Fast.

Down the hallway, past classrooms, past lockers, past the laughter still echoing faintly behind you. Your eyes sting, your throat burns, but you don't cry. Not here. Not where they can see you break again.

You push through the front doors of the school and into the crisp air outside.

You don't know where you're going, only that it's away.

Away from the stares. Away from Yuji's worried eyes. Away from Ateez, whose faces were full of regret but mouths still sealed shut. Away from the counselor and her hollow sympathy.

You keep walking.

Just like you did that night after the party.

Your phone vibrates in your pocket—probably your mom, maybe even Yuji—but you ignore it.

You're tired of people pretending they care when the second you turn your back, they let the world chew you up.

You don't look back.

Your feet take you across the parking lot, past the fields, down familiar sidewalks blurred by numbness. It's cold, but you don't feel it—not really. All you feel is that hollow ache, the one that gnaws behind your ribs and makes you want to vanish.

______ Your phone buzzes again. You pull it out.

Mom (3 missed calls) Yuji (1 text): "Please talk to me. I'm worried. I miss you."

You stare at the message for a long time, your thumb hovering over the screen. You don't reply. You tuck the phone back into your pocket.

Somewhere in your chest, something twists with guilt.

But then you think about the looks they gave you. The hallway. The laughter. The pity. The silence from Ateez. The way no one stood up for you when it counted.

You pass a familiar street corner and stop, unsure if you should keep walking or turn back.

Your legs feel heavy. Your thoughts heavier.

There's a part of you—tiny, almost crushed—that whispers maybe you should've stayed. That maybe Yuji's text was real. That maybe someone, somewhere, still wants you.

But another part—louder, darker—says you don't deserve any of it.

You end up sitting on a curb with your hood up, head in your hands, hiding from a world that refuses to understand you.

And maybe that's all you can do right now.

You wander the city again.

You avoid familiar streets. Avoid your house. You just keep walking, hoodie up, arms tucked tight, headphones in with no music playing.

You find yourself back at the abandoned train yard.

The air smells like rust and dust. The sun is setting behind jagged buildings, washing the tracks in dim orange light. You step between shadows and trash, the silence humming in your ears louder than any crowd ever could.

You find the same train car you stayed in before. It's still empty, still yours.

You sit. Then lie down. Your backpack as your pillow.

You stare at the metal ceiling, lit by the last sliver of sunlight, and feel your stomach twist. Not from hunger. Just... hollow.

Your phone buzzes again.

Mom (missed call) Yuji: "Where are you? Please... I just want to know that you're okay."

You shut your eyes. Pretend you didn't see it. Pretend none of this exists.

Then you hear a train rumbling far in the distance. Not yours. Just another one passing by, going somewhere else. Carrying people who don't feel like this. People who didn't punch the one person who cared. People who still believe in being saved.

But you're not one of them.

You curl up tighter.

The stars come out one by one above the broken roof.

And you say nothing. _______ TUESDAY

You blink, your eyes adjusting to the dim light peeking through the broken windows of the train yard. The air is cold, and your muscles ache from the night spent on the hard ground. For a moment, you're disoriented—unsure of where you are or how you even got here. Then, the events of the previous night flood back: the party, the confrontation, the walking... the walking that had led you here, away from everyone. You pull yourself up, your body stiff, but there's no time to wallow in the pain. You can hear the faint hum of the world outside, life continuing while you remain frozen in place.

Your phone buzzes in your pocket, but you don't bother to check. You already know who it is. The same two names that have been lighting up your screen for hours: your mom and Yuji. You can't bring yourself to respond.

You know you need to go back. You should go back. But you don't. Instead, you take one last look at the place where you spent the night alone and step out into the harsh morning air. It feels like a different world now, a world where you're just walking to another battle.

⸻

When you walk through the gates, the usual bustle of students around you is overwhelming. But there's something different today. The noise feels sharper, the whispers more insistent, like the entire school is aware of you—and they are. The police are here again. You can tell by the uniforms, the uncomfortable looks of the teachers, and the way everyone moves out of their way. The whispers follow you down the hall. You can feel their eyes on your back, but you keep your head down, the weight of their judgment settling in the pit of your stomach.

And then there's the other group: the counselors, the ones who've made it their mission to 'help' you, but always seem to make everything worse. They're all standing near your locker, their glares sharp, their voices just low enough that you can't catch what they're saying. They've been waiting for you. Just like last time.

Your eyes flick over to them—at the familiar ones, the ones who never seem to see past your mistakes, who never bother to understand. But there's one new face in the crowd: Mrs. Honey. She's standing a little farther away, her posture straighter, less judgmental than the others. She looks at you with something softer in her eyes, something different than the usual disdain. You can't read it, but you notice it. For the first time in a long while, someone seems like they might actually want to help.

As you get closer to your locker, your heart sinks. There are words scrawled on it, hateful messages and mocking slurs. Your name is slashed across in big, messy letters—comments about your disappearance, about your 'broken' personality, about everything. The sight of it makes your stomach churn. You can feel your throat close up, but you force yourself to breathe. They're just words. They don't matter.

Yuji walks up behind you, her eyes wide as she takes in the damage. She doesn't say anything at first, just stands there, fidgeting, clearly uncomfortable with what she sees. "I... I'm sorry, Y/N," she says quietly, but it doesn't feel like enough. It never feels like enough.

"You okay?" she asks gently, but the words are too soft. Too gentle. It's not like she doesn't understand, but she can't understand this. She can't know how it feels to have everyone look at you like you're nothing but the worst parts of yourself on display.

And that's when it happens. The counselors finally move in. The ones you can never escape. They walk over to your locker, their heels clicking in sync, each one standing behind the other like they've already formed their judgment.

"Y/N," one of them—Miss Blackwell, the one who never had a kind word for you—starts, her voice sharp and cold. "We need to talk. Again. This behavior is unacceptable."

You don't respond, just stare at her, but she's not done yet. She moves closer, practically looming over you. "You've been reported missing. Your mother is worried sick, and you've just disappeared like this? You need to stop acting out. What's going on with you?"

The words come at you like a battering ram, each one heavier than the last. You're not allowed to speak unless they tell you. You're not allowed to feel unless it fits into their little box of what's right. When you don't respond, their eyes narrow, judgment clear in every movement. Miss Blackwell's voice drops, an undertone of disgust sneaking through.

"No answer?" she presses, glancing toward the others, who share a brief, knowing look. They've already decided—whatever happened, it's your fault. It's always your fault.

And just as it's becoming unbearable, Mrs. Honey steps forward. She doesn't speak to Miss Blackwell, but her presence is a wall, and her eyes are on you. She's the first to actually see you today, the first to see you for more than your mistakes, and it feels like a lifeline.

"Y/N, we're just trying to help," she says softly. "I know this isn't easy, but please, if you need anything, you can come to me. It doesn't have to be like this."

You meet her gaze for a moment, but then the pressure is too much. Your eyes drop to the floor. You can't speak. You can't do anything. You can't be what they want. You can't be what anyone wants.

"You should talk to her," Yuji whispers, and her voice is filled with the same pleading hope you're trying to ignore. She doesn't get it. She doesn't know what this feels like.

But it doesn't matter. Because right now, all you want is to escape. From the looks, from the words, from the pressure.

The world feels too big, and you're just a small, broken piece of it. ______

The school meeting room is cold, sterile, and far too bright. The hum of fluorescent lights fills the uncomfortable silence as you sit hunched in a chair, arms crossed tightly over your chest. The table in front of you is filled with adults—authority figures—most of whom haven't said more than a sentence to you since the year started.

Your mom is sitting beside you, pale and exhausted, her eyes red-rimmed and full of silent pleading. Across the table are four school counselors and one teacher you recognize but have never really spoken to. Mrs. Honey, a newer counselor, sits to the far left—she watches you closely, not with judgment, but with concern. She's the only one in the room who isn't staring at you like a problem to be solved or expelled.

Mrs. Honey speaks first, voice gentle. "Y/N, I know this isn't easy. But we're here to help you. I think... you've been hurting for a long time."

You don't say anything. You stare at a scratch in the table, the tip of your sneaker tapping rhythmically against the floor.

Mr. Calhoun, a counselor with a clipboard and a clipped tone, lets out a sigh. "With all due respect, Mrs. Honey, this is the second time this girl has gone missing in less than a week. She's not responding to any efforts to reach her. It's disruptive. It's dangerous."

"She hasn't even been here a full semester," another counselor—Ms. Lowell—adds, voice laced with irritation. "And already she's skipped, fought, cursed at staff... I don't think she's interested in changing."

Your jaw tightens.

"Or maybe she just wants attention," mutters the vice principal. "These types of students always pull stunts like this."

You flinch.

Your mom opens her mouth to defend you but no words come out. You don't look at her.

Mrs. Honey shakes her head slightly. "She's not a 'type of student.' She's a person. A child. And she's clearly in pain. Maybe instead of trying to punish her for being broken, we should try to understand why she feels like disappearing is her only option."

You lift your head slowly, eyes locking onto Mrs. Honey's. There's no pity there. Just honesty. A softness that unnerves you more than any harsh words could.

Still, you shake your head, voice low and rough from disuse. "Let go of me. Leave me alone."

Mrs. Honey's expression doesn't falter.

The others shift uncomfortably, still more interested in paperwork and protocol than your well-being. The judgment lingers in the air.

Your mom brushes your shoulder gently, but you pull away again, and the room falls back into silence.

You sit still, eyes unfocused, your mind slowly drifting even as the voices in the room keep talking around you. About you.

"She's withdrawn, unresponsive, hostile," Mr. Calhoun says, flipping through your file like you're just another statistic. "And if I'm being honest, I'm not sure this school is equipped to handle someone like her."

Someone like me. Your nails dig into your sleeves. You don't even know me.

"I've reviewed her records," Ms. Lowell cuts in. "No prior history at our school, no extracurricular involvement, no signs of community connection. Her presence in this environment is... disruptive."

Disruptive. That's what I am, huh? Not a person. Not a kid. Just a disruption.

You stare at the floor, your body still but your mind screaming. You wonder if they'd still talk this way if you weren't in the room. Or maybe they think you're not really here—just a shell sitting in a chair. You might as well be invisible.

"She's hurting," Mrs. Honey interjects again, her voice more forceful now. "You're all talking about her like she's not in the room. Like she hasn't been through something. No one disappears for days unless they feel like they have nowhere else to go."

That makes your chest ache.

You're right. I didn't want to go anywhere. I just didn't want to exist at all.

"She doesn't try," someone says. "She doesn't speak up, doesn't respond."

Because what's the point?

Every time I open my mouth, it's the wrong thing. Every time I show up, I get laughed at, pushed aside, talked about. You think I don't see the way the teachers look at me? The way the students whisper? The way even my mom can't look me in the eye sometimes?

You glance toward your mother. She's still crying quietly, still not saying anything. You don't blame her. You're tired of fighting too.

"Y/N," Mrs. Honey tries again, her voice reaching out like a hand. "I know you feel alone. But I'm asking you to let someone in. Even if it's just a little. You don't have to speak, just... let us try."

Your lips part, but no sound comes. Instead, the words echo in your skull.

You don't get it. None of you do. You never will.

You sit there, silence as your shield, trying not to fall apart again in front of people who wouldn't notice if you did.

The silence in the meeting room is crushing. The fluorescent lights buzz faintly above, but all you can hear is your heartbeat, pounding in your ears like it wants to break free.

You finally say, in a low voice that barely feels like your own, "I didn't mean to scare anyone..."

Your mom chokes out a sob beside you.

You stare at your hands. They're trembling.

"I just wanted it all to stop," you add, barely above a whisper.

Mrs. Honey leans forward slightly, her posture open, calm. No judgment in her eyes. Just softness.

But then Ms. Lowell snorts. "Oh please. We've heard this sob story before."

"She's manipulating you," another counselor mutters to Mrs. Honey. "It's textbook."

"She's been a disaster since the first day she walked through these doors," says Mr. Calhoun with a shrug. "And now you expect us to hold her hand because she ran off for attention?"

You freeze.

Your throat tightens, and for a moment it feels like your lungs forget how to work. The room spins. Your mom tries to say something through her tears, but it comes out in broken pieces. She places a hand on your shoulder.

You jerk away from her touch.

"Don't," you murmur. "Just—don't."

Why did I even speak?

They don't want to understand me.

I don't belong anywhere.

Your vision blurs as you curl in on yourself, not physically—but internally. You stop responding. You stop hearing them. You sink back behind the walls you know too well.

You become still.

Emotionless.

Empty.

The counselors keep talking, louder now, angrier. Their voices blur together into something sharp and punishing:

"She needs discipline, not coddling."

"She's been disrespectful to teachers since day one."

"She's nothing but a drain on everyone here."

Mrs. Honey stands sharply, her chair scraping against the floor. "Enough," she snaps. Her voice isn't loud, but it cuts through the venom like a blade. "She's sitting right here. And she's a child."

She moves toward your mother, who is silently sobbing now, hands clutched tightly in her lap. "It's not your fault," Mrs. Honey whispers to her, kneeling gently. "None of this is your fault. She's hurting."

Your mom just keeps crying, trying so hard to say your name through the tears. "Y/N... baby, please..."

But you don't answer.

You don't even blink.

You're a statue.

Gone again. ———————

The door shuts with a dull click as the meeting ends. Everyone filters out, some murmuring to each other, others shooting you lingering, judgmental glances. You remain seated, completely frozen. Mrs. Honey watches them go, then glances over at you, her expression soft but filled with quiet understanding.

She doesn't try to fill the silence with words right away. She simply gives your mom a subtle nod and says, "Why don't you wait in the front office? I'll bring Y/N when she's ready."

Your mom hesitates, her eyes flicking between you and Mrs. Honey. You can see the concern etched into her features, the heaviness of a thousand unspoken words hanging in the air between you. But her shoulders slump slightly, and she lets out a soft, defeated breath before she quietly turns toward the door.

She walks out without a word.

You don't look up.

The door clicks shut behind her, leaving you alone with Mrs. Honey.

The room is cold, and the silence is suffocating. You remain silent, your fingers digging into your lap as you fight back the urge to close yourself off completely. You can't bring yourself to speak to Mrs. Honey, not when everything inside you feels like it's breaking apart.

She doesn't rush you.

After a while, Mrs. Honey's voice breaks through the silence, calm and gentle. "Y/N, you don't have to say anything. I'm not here to pressure you. I just wanted you to know... what happened today wasn't your fault."

You don't respond. It's hard to process her words when you're not even sure what you're feeling. The guilt, the pain, the numbness, all swirl together in your chest, too overwhelming to comprehend.

Mrs. Honey waits for a moment, sensing your internal struggle. When she speaks again, it's almost as though she's trying to reach you without forcing you to respond. "I know it feels like everyone's against you, but I'm not. And your mom isn't. We just want you to be okay."

Your stomach twists at the mention of your mom. You're not sure what you want anymore, not sure how to fix what's been broken. All you want is to disappear, to not have to face any of this. But no matter how hard you try, the reality still presses down on you like a weight that won't lift.

The door opens softly, and your mom steps back into the room. She looks tired, her eyes red-rimmed as though she's been crying for hours. She clutches her phone in one hand, still clutching onto that sliver of hope, the faintest trace of desperation.

She pauses when she sees you sitting there, frozen, not looking at her. You feel her gaze on you, but you can't return it. Not now.

"Y/N..." Her voice cracks, and for the first time, she sounds broken. "Please, can we talk?"

You don't answer. Your gaze stays fixed on the floor, the weight of everything too heavy to bear.

"I just want to understand," your mom continues, her voice pleading but soft. "I don't know what happened to you, but I want to help you. I want to be there, but I don't know how."

You don't know how either.

Her voice breaks through the wall of silence, a raw whisper in the room. "I'm so sorry, Y/N... for everything."

Your eyes sting, but you don't look up. You won't. You can't.

"Just... leave me alone," you mutter, your voice barely above a whisper.

Your mom's breath hitches, the sound of her heart breaking louder than any words could convey. You hear her step closer, but when you don't move, when you don't even acknowledge her, she pulls back.

"Okay," she says softly, her voice thick with tears. "I'll leave you alone. But please know... I love you."

You don't respond. The words don't reach you.

With a final, heartbroken glance, your mom exits the room, leaving you alone with Mrs. Honey. The door clicks shut behind her, and you're left in the empty silence, feeling more alone than ever.

The minutes stretch into hours. You don't move, don't speak, don't even blink. It's as though you're trapped in some inescapable moment, and the world outside doesn't matter anymore.

Eventually, Mrs. Honey stands up, her footsteps soft as she crosses the room toward the door. "Your mom's waiting in the front. You should go with her, Y/N. I know things feel impossible right now, but you don't have to carry this alone. Not anymore."

But you don't feel strong enough to respond, to make a decision. Instead, you remain motionless, your eyes staring at the floor, caught between what you should do and what you want to do.

⸻

Later, you find yourself standing outside the school, your mom at your side, the weight of everything pressing against you, suffocating. The last remnants of sunlight flicker across the horizon, but the world feels dark and cold.

You don't know what to say, how to make things better. You just wish everything would go away. But it won't.

The drive home is quiet. The only sound in the car is the hum of the engine and the soft, labored breathing of your mom beside you.

When you arrive home, you don't speak. You don't look at her. You just walk to your room, closing the door behind you without a word.

And when you finally sit down on your bed, the weight of it all crushes you. The pressure, the isolation, the hurt.

You're alone again. _______

The knock is soft, hesitant.

You don't answer. You can't.

Your body is wrapped in your blanket, the weight of the day crushing you. You can still hear the counselors' voices in your head, the way they looked at you like a lost cause. Your mom's tired eyes. The way everyone stared when you walked through the halls.

The door opens quietly.

"Y/N?"

Yuji steps in slowly, not waiting for a response. She closes the door behind her and walks across the room like she's afraid to break something fragile. You don't move, but your eyes flicker toward her for a second, then away.

"I brought snacks," she murmurs, setting a small bag on your desk. "And water. Thought maybe you'd need both."

You say nothing.

Yuji looks at you for a moment, then pulls your desk chair over next to the bed and sits down. She doesn't try to force conversation. She doesn't ask questions or demand an explanation. She just... stays.

The room is quiet for a long time. The kind of quiet that stretches thin and brittle. You feel her eyes on you every so often, but she never says anything. She just waits.

Minutes pass.

An hour?

The clock ticks, and the room grows darker.

You hear her shift slightly in the chair, letting out a small sigh—but still she stays. The silence is starting to feel less like a void and more like... presence.

Finally, your voice cracks through it, small and brittle.

"I didn't mean to disappear."

Yuji doesn't move, but her voice is soft. "I know."

You bite your lip, voice trembling as you speak again. "I just... couldn't breathe anymore."

Yuji's chair creaks as she leans forward, elbows on her knees. "Do you feel like you can breathe now?"

You shake your head slowly, your voice barely audible. "No."

The silence that follows is heavy, but not uncomfortable.

Then Yuji quietly says, "Okay. Then I'll stay until you can."

You turn your face toward her slightly. "Even if that takes forever?"

Yuji gives you a faint, sad smile. "Even if it takes longer than that."

The words hang between you—so soft and real they almost hurt.

And then you whisper something you didn't even realize you were going to say:

"...I think I did something bad."

Yuji's eyes flicker, her body going still.

You don't say more. You curl tighter under the blanket, your heart pounding.

She leans a little closer, her voice gentle but steady. "Y/N... what did you do?"

🥀

𝑻𝑨𝑮 𝑳𝑰𝑺𝑻 | @hannahstacos @Anonymip @miyadollie @yuyuslay @lixhoe @beljakovina @rinabluess

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED FOR NOIRE-XX. DO NOT STEAL, COPY, OR CLAIM MY WORK AS YOUR OWN.

[sundeyyy]

—WATCH YOUR BACK

V: I'M SORRY PART 2

pairing|BadBoys!Ateez x Broken!Reader

wc|10.7k

synopsis| You hide behind quiet walls, haunted by fears no one sees. Yuji's steady presence is your only light in the dark. Alone, you carry secrets that weight heavier each day, torn between disappearing and wanting to be found.

warnings!| Bullying, Self-hate, Self-ridicule, Dark thoughts, Emotional vulnerability, Profanity, Verbal aggression, Disordered eating, Emotional manipulation, Obsession (lmk if I forgot anything)

disclaimer!|This series is not a representation of the idols as individuals and is to not be taken seriously. If you’re uncomfortable with the content in the series or on my page, then feel free to click off at any moment.

———————————————————————————————

The drive to your house feels slower than usual, the hum of the engine almost comforting against the silence that stretches between you and Yuji. It's not an awkward silence, not exactly, but there's an unspoken heaviness in the air. Yuji glances at you every so often, her eyes full of concern, but she doesn't push you. She never does. She just lets you be.

The streetlights pass in blurs, casting fleeting shadows on the quiet road. The muffled sound of the tires on pavement fills the space as you focus on the road ahead, trying to ignore the way your chest tightens. You can feel the weight of everything—the school day, the words, the stares—still sitting heavily on your shoulders. The last thing you want to do is let Yuji see how much it's affecting you, though.

"Y/N," Yuji says softly, breaking the silence.

You don't respond right away, your hands gripping the seatbelt in front of you like it could anchor you to something solid.

"Do you ever just... feel like disappearing?" The words leave your mouth before you can stop them, your voice barely above a whisper.

Yuji's eyes widen for a split second, her gaze darting toward you. There's a moment of stunned silence before she speaks, her voice quieter than usual.

"Y/N..." she starts, a slight shake in her tone. "You know that's not true, right?"

You shrug, turning your head to stare out the window. "I don't know. Sometimes it just feels like it would be easier."

You hear the seatbelt click as Yuji shifts in her seat. She's processing your words, maybe trying to think of the right thing to say, but you don't need her to say anything. You just need the silence, the comfort of her presence, without the pressure of anything more.

"I'm fine," you say quickly, your voice flat. The words feel like a reflex, a shield you throw up because it's easier than dealing with the truth. You don't look at her when you say it, knowing she can see right through you.

Yuji doesn't say anything for a few moments, but you feel her eyes on you, the concern still there, even if she's holding back.

"I get it," she says, her voice soft, "but I'm here, okay? I'm not going anywhere."

Her words sit with you, like a light in the dark, though you still feel the pull of the shadows.

The car rolls up to your house, the lights in the windows glowing softly in the night. You don't move right away, just sit there for a moment, trying to figure out what to do with the knot in your chest.

Finally, you unbuckle your seatbelt, pulling open the door and stepping out. Yuji follows, matching your slow pace as you make your way to the front door.

Inside, your mom is already there, sitting at the kitchen table with her laptop open. She looks up as you both enter, a faint smile crossing her face, though it doesn't quite reach her eyes.

"Hi girls, how was school? ," she says, her tone casual, but you can tell she's been working for a while, her eyes a little tired.

"Fine," you mumble, not really feeling up to small talk. "Yuji's just hanging out."

Your mom nods, returning her attention to the screen. "Well, make yourselves comfortable."

Yuji looks over at you, a silent offer to just let you lead. You nod, walking upstairs toward the your bedroom, but it feels like everything is still a little too heavy.

You don't feel like talking, not really, but you know that just being here—being with someone who doesn't expect anything from you—makes it a little easier to breathe.

Once inside, you feel strangely exposed. You didn't really expect to show her anything, and yet here you are, letting her into the space where you've poured every single bit of yourself into. There are sketches scattered on the floor, art supplies piled on your desk, and a few half-finished drawings pinned up on the walls. Your gaze shifts to them, your self-consciousness gnawing at you. You've never really been proud of them, not the way others might think.

Yuji glances around the room, her eyes landing on your art supplies. "Your room is amazing, Y/N," she says, her voice genuine. "You've got so much talent."

You let out a small breath, hoping she doesn't notice the way your cheeks flush slightly. "It's nothing," you mumble, brushing the comment off. "I just like to draw."

Yuji picks up one of your sketchbooks and flips it open. You watch as she runs her fingers over the pages, her expression flickering between curiosity and awe. You've seen people look at your art before, but it's never felt like this. You're not sure what it is, but there's something different in the way Yuji sees it. It's almost like she doesn't just see the drawings—they're a piece of you, too.

"Y/N, these are incredible," she whispers, her voice laced with disbelief. "I didn't know you were this good."

You give a half-smile, shrugging. "It's just what I do when I'm bored, I guess."

Yuji flips to another page, and you can see her getting lost in the details, fascinated by how much of your world you've captured in these pages. You catch a glimpse of one of your darker drawings—a self-portrait that feels too raw for anyone to see. Your eyes are hollow, a reflection of the emptiness that clings to you like a shadow. The figure doesn't look like you at all—it looks like a stranger, a broken version of yourself that's been stripped of all feeling.

Then she flips the page again. You panic. You don't want her to see what's next. Without thinking, you snatch the sketchbook from her hands and clutch it tightly to your chest.

Yuji looks at you, startled, her voice softer now. "Y/N? What's wrong?"

Before you can respond, the door creaks open, and your mom steps inside. She's a little surprised to see Yuji, but her smile is warm as she enters the room. "Everything okay, you two?" she asks, her tone light and casual, but there's an edge to it, like she can feel the tension in the air.

"Yeah," you mumble, trying to keep everything normal, even though it feels anything but. You quickly hide the sketchbook, but your mom isn't fooled. She catches sight of it, and her eyes soften as she looks over your art supplies.

"Oh wow, Y/N, these are amazing," your mom says with genuine admiration, picking up a random sketchbook and flipping it open. "You're so talented, honey."

You can feel your cheeks heat up with embarrassment. "It's nothing, Mom. Really," you say, trying to downplay it.

Your mom doesn't seem convinced, though. She stops at one of your self-portraits—the one you hate most—and her expression falters slightly. You can tell she's focusing on the emptiness in your eyes, the hollow look that stares back at her from the page.

"You know," your mom says, her voice gentle, but filled with concern, "this one... Why do you look so sad in this one? Why does it feel like you're not really here?"

You feel the weight of her question, like an anchor pulling you down. You swallow hard, trying to brush it off. "It's just a portrait, Mom. Doesn't mean anything."

Yuji doesn't say anything, but you feel her watching you, her eyes filled with an emotion you can't quite read. You turn away quickly, trying to block out the heaviness in the room. You want to tell them it's nothing, that you're fine, but you know they don't believe you.

Your mom glances at Yuji, a quiet understanding passing between them. There's worry in both their eyes, but they don't push you. Not yet. But you know they won't let this go.

And you don't know if you want them to. _______

The car engine hums as it fades down the street, and you stand at the door, watching the headlights of Yuji's car until they're swallowed up by the night. It feels strange to see her go. For a few hours, there was a bit of light in the house, a kind of warmth that you didn't expect. But now, that light is gone, and you're left with the usual silence.

You step back into the house, the air heavy in the way only a quiet house can be. Your mom is still in the living room, probably waiting for some sign that things went well. You don't look at her as you head toward the hallway, but you can feel her eyes on your back.

"You okay, honey?" Your mom's voice is soft but carries that underlying concern that always seems to follow her when it comes to you.

You stop in the middle of the hallway, standing still for a second. You don't want to talk about it. You don't want to talk about how it felt to have Yuji here, how comfortable it was, and how the moment she left, it all came crashing down. But you know your mom won't just drop it. She's persistent, like always.

"I'm fine," you say quickly, not even turning to face her. It's the go-to response, the easiest one.

You hear her sigh quietly from the living room. There's a pause before she speaks again, like she's deciding how to approach you. "Y/N, I know you're not fine. You don't have to pretend for me. You don't have to keep shutting me out."

You don't know why she thinks you're shutting her out. All you're doing is trying to stay quiet. You can't explain what's in your head, can't put into words the things you feel. You don't want to burden her. So, you settle for what you always do. The words you always say.

"I said I'm fine," you snap, a little harsher than you intend. It's the frustration you've been holding back, bubbling up with nowhere else to go.

She doesn't flinch, but you can hear the disappointment in her voice. "Y/N..."

"I'm fine, Mom. I just want to be alone," you say, your tone shutting down the conversation. You don't want her to keep trying. You don't want to feel like she's looking for something from you that you can't give her.

There's another long silence, and you can feel the tension between you both. But before you can escape further into your own mind, she speaks again, softer now.

"I just want you to know that I'm here for you, sweetheart. Whenever you're ready to talk," she says, though you can hear the sadness creeping in.

You don't answer her, not because you don't care, but because you don't know what to say. Instead, you walk down the hallway, your footsteps echoing too loudly in the quiet house.

You close your bedroom door behind you with a soft click, the sound oddly final. The weight of everything that's been left unsaid hangs heavy in the air. You stand there for a moment, trying to shake off the feeling of being too much... or too little. The tension between you and your mom is always like this—constant, unspoken, as if there's something neither of you knows how to fix.

You let out a breath, the familiar emptiness creeping back in. And all you can think about is how it would be easier if you didn't have to face any of it at all. _______

The moment you step onto school grounds, you can feel the shift in the air. It's like everything goes quiet for just a second before the stares start, the whispers rippling through the crowd. You've gotten used to it, but today it feels heavier. It's as if the weight of all their eyes is pressing down on you from every direction.

You want to disappear, just slip through the cracks and never be seen again. But you can't. You never can.

You keep your head down as you make your way to your locker, your footsteps sounding louder than usual in the silence of the hallway. The locker area is packed with students—some gathered in groups, chatting quietly, others standing alone, but all of them are looking at you. You can't shake the feeling that everyone is watching your every move, just waiting for you to mess up.

You reach your locker, your fingers trembling slightly as you twist the combination. That's when you see her. Yuji. Standing right next to you, her eyes immediately finding yours.

"Hey," Yuji says with a small smile, her voice a little too loud in the quiet hall. It's the kind of smile that's meant to chase away the tension, the kind of smile that makes you feel like maybe, just maybe, things won't feel so heavy today.

But even her presence doesn't seem to ease the weight in your chest. You force a smile back, though it doesn't quite reach your eyes. "Hey."

Yuji doesn't miss the way you hesitate, the way you're still looking down, trying to avoid the eyes that you know are following your every move. She's not oblivious.

"You alright?" she asks softly, a little quieter now. She leans closer, as if to shield you from the prying gazes around you. It's a small gesture, but it means a lot.

You nod quickly, even though you know it's not true. "Yeah. I'm fine," you say, the words coming out a little too quickly, too flat.

Yuji gives you a look, the kind that says she knows you're lying, but she doesn't push it. Instead, she glances around at the other students who are clearly trying to act casual but are failing miserably. Some are still staring, others whispering. But Yuji's attention is back on you almost immediately.

"I brought you coffee," she says, holding out a cup. You notice the faint blush on her cheeks. "I thought you might need it. Or... I could just be trying to be your caffeine dealer."

You take the cup, and for a moment, just holding it feels like a small comfort. You don't drink it yet, just cradle it in your hands like it might be the only thing grounding you to the present.

"Thanks," you say quietly, looking up at her for a split second, enough to see the kindness in her eyes. But then you glance away, unable to hold her gaze for too long.

"Don't let them get to you," Yuji says, almost as if she's trying to convince herself just as much as she's trying to convince you. "They're just idiots."

You chuckle, though it's bitter. You want to believe her, but you don't think it's that simple. "Yeah, maybe."

A brief silence falls between you, but it's not uncomfortable. Yuji seems to understand that you need a moment. You stare at the coffee cup, your thoughts racing. You wish you could ignore it all, pretend it wasn't happening, but the whispers are still there, the stares still following you. You don't want Yuji to see how much it's affecting you, so you just swallow it down and let it settle somewhere deep inside you, where you can bury it for later.

Yuji shifts slightly, looking at the students who are still staring. "Do you want to go get some breakfast? Maybe avoid the hallway chaos for a bit?"

You hesitate. The idea of avoiding the constant pressure of the hallway feels like a good one, but you're not sure if it's just putting off the inevitable. You're already dreading the rest of the day, but for now, you don't want to be alone with your thoughts.

"Yeah," you say softly, your voice barely above a whisper, but it's a quiet relief to hear the words leave your mouth. You look at Yuji, the smallest smile playing at the corner of your lips. "That sounds good."

Yuji grins, her eyes lighting up just a little. "Alright, let's get out of here."

As the two of you start to walk away, you can feel the eyes on you again, but this time, they don't seem quite as suffocating. With Yuji by your side, it feels a little easier to breathe.

For now, that's enough.

The hum of the cafeteria surrounds you, but it feels distant, like you're floating in your own little bubble. You sit across from Yuji, sipping on your coffee, not really tasting it. You've had it black for as long as you can remember—no sugar, no cream. It's not about liking it. It's just what you've been doing lately.

Yuji nudges you gently, looking at your tray, or rather, the lack of one. "Y/N," she says, her voice light but carrying an edge of concern, "you really not gonna eat anything?"

You shrug, trying to avoid her gaze. "I'm not hungry," you mumble, focusing on the steam rising from your cup. You've said it a million times, so much that the words have become almost automatic.

Yuji doesn't buy it. She studies you for a moment, her eyes tracing the way you keep fiddling with your coffee cup. She's worried. You can feel it. But you don't want to talk about it right now.

Instead, you glance up, just in time to notice Ateez walking into the cafeteria. The buzz of their presence ripples through the room. Some people look at them with admiration, some with envy, but you know the drill—everyone's eyes are always on them. Especially today, when they seem to be more confident than ever.

You can feel the shift in the air as the members pass by your table. Hongjoong is leading the group, his sharp eyes scanning the room, and as his gaze lands on you, it lingers for a fraction of a second longer than it should. You quickly look away, focusing back on your coffee, but not before you catch the way the others glance at you too.

Seonghwa, ever observant, shoots you a small look of curiosity, and Yunho tilts his head ever so slightly as they walk past. Mingi and Wooyoung share a quiet exchange, their gazes flicking between you and the others. San, with his usual cheer, glances your way too, but quickly turns to the conversation with his friends.

It's brief. But you can feel them noticing. You don't want to draw attention, but somehow, the attention is always there.

They make their way past, settling a few tables over, and you can hear snippets of their conversation—laughter, teasing, and the occasional word exchanged between them. And yet, even as they settle into their space, you know they're still watching you. There's something about the way they all looked, almost like they were sizing you up without saying a word.

You try to ignore it, but it's hard to, especially when you feel Yuji's gaze on you again, waiting for you to say something.

"Y/N, you really okay?" she asks quietly, leaning in slightly, her tone still light but serious enough that you know she means it.

You shake your head a little, offering her a half-hearted smile that doesn't quite meet your eyes. "I'm fine," you murmur, but it feels like a lie, even to you. You just don't want to talk about it anymore. Not here, not now.

The table falls into a quiet lull as you both sit there, and you try to focus on anything but the gnawing emptiness in your stomach. You're not hungry. But the words are empty, just like you feel.

Ateez's presence lingers in the background as their laughter fills the air. You catch fleeting glances from across the cafeteria—nothing obvious, just them looking at each other and exchanging words you can't quite make out. They're curious. Or maybe they just want to know who you are, the quiet girl who everyone seems to talk about but no one truly understands.

You sigh quietly, closing your eyes for a second, wishing for the day to just speed up so you can retreat to your own space. _______

WEDNESDAY

Wednesday feels like a breath of fresh air. The usual buzz of school is muted today, as everyone scatters to catch up on assignments or just relax. The library is almost empty, save for a few students scattered in corners, their heads buried in books or their phones.

You and Yuji have found your usual corner—a cozy, quiet spot tucked away in the back, where no one bothers you. It's like your little refuge, away from the whispers and the stares. Yuji's flipping through her notebook, jotting down something, while you're just sprawled out on the chair, headphones in, but not really listening to anything. It's a rare moment of peace.

You glance at her, watching the way her pen moves effortlessly across the paper. It's easy to forget the world around you when you're with her. She's the only person who can make you feel like you're not invisible—like you're actually worth something. But even so, there's still this gnawing emptiness inside of you.

The sound of footsteps suddenly breaks the calm, and a group of girls enters the library. You don't know them well—just a few familiar faces from the hallways and lunch periods. They make their way past the shelves, their voices sharp and clear, talking about the party they're planning for Friday.

Yuji doesn't notice them at first, but you do. You catch snippets of their conversation, and you feel a pang in your chest. A party. Something you'll never be invited to. You try to push the feeling away.

One of the girls, a blonde with a mischievous smile, turns to Yuji, her voice a little too loud. "Hey, Yuji! There's a party at Rachel's house on Friday. You should totally come! It's gonna be amazing."

Yuji grins, nodding in excitement. "Sounds fun! I'll think about it."

As the group of girls starts to leave, they glance at you. It's brief, just a fleeting look, but it's enough to make you feel it—their eyes on you. Their quiet judgment.

Then, they exchange a glance between themselves, their lips curving into smirks before they laugh. "Yeah, maybe she can come, too," one of them says, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "If she even gets invited."

You feel your cheeks flush, the heat of embarrassment crawling up your neck. You don't say anything, trying to shrink back into the chair, hoping the floor might just swallow you whole. Yuji doesn't seem to notice the way you tense up, but you can feel her staring at you, the quiet concern in her gaze.

When the girls leave, she turns to you, her brow furrowed. "Are you okay?" she asks quietly, her voice gentle. She knows you well enough to see when something's off, even if you don't want to show it.

You nod quickly, a tight smile pulling at the corners of your lips. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just... tired, you know?"

Yuji doesn't seem convinced. She leans forward, placing her notebook down on the table. "Hey," she says, voice soft but firm. "There's going to be a party on Friday. I want you to come with me."

You blink at her, taken aback. "What? Why?"

Yuji shrugs, her gaze sincere. "Because you deserve to have fun, too. You're my friend, Y/N. I want you there."

You feel a lump form in your throat, the weight of her words settling over you like a heavy blanket. Her wanting you to be included, to be part of something, is enough to make you feel something you haven't felt in a long time: hope.

But you can't bring yourself to say yes—not yet. There's something about the idea of being in a crowd, of having all those eyes on you, that makes you want to run.

"Maybe," you say, your voice barely above a whisper. "I don't know if I can. I'm not really good at parties."

Yuji smiles gently, her eyes kind. "You don't have to be. Just come with me, alright? We can stick together."

You nod slowly, unsure of what to say next. You want to say yes, to be with her, but there's that familiar fear. The fear of being judged, of standing out in all the wrong ways.

But for the first time in a long time, you feel a tiny flicker of hope. Maybe—just maybe—this could be something worth trying.

Yuji leans back in her chair, content with your answer. "It'll be fun. I promise."

You don't say anything, but a part of you feels lighter. For now, that's enough.

You sit quietly in the library, your sketchbook open in front of you, pencil in hand as you try to focus on the lines you're drawing. Your mind feels foggy, but the rhythm of your hand moving across the page is comforting, even if the drawing is just an abstract mess of sharp shapes. It's something to distract you from the chaos of your thoughts.

Yuji, sitting beside you, taps away at her phone, lost in her own world. You glance at her, and she notices your gaze. "I'm gonna head to the bathroom," she says, giving you a small, reassuring smile. "I'll be right back."

You give her a slight nod, still focused on the page in front of you. It's easier to be alone, even if only for a little while. You continue sketching, trying to ignore the dull ache in your chest. The quiet of the library wraps around you, but the feeling of being watched starts to creep up your spine.

Before you can shake it off, the door to the library opens, and a few familiar voices cut through the stillness. Ateez.

You tense up instinctively. The last time you saw them, they barely acknowledged you. But now... now they're walking toward you, casual but purposeful, like they know exactly what they're doing.

San, with his usual smirk, is the first to approach, plopping down into the seat across from you. His eyes scan you, lingering just a little too long. "Well, look who's sitting all alone again," he says, voice teasing.

Mingi follows him, taking the seat beside you. He leans back in his chair with a wide grin, watching you intently. "You know, you've got this quiet vibe going on," he says, as if this is the most intriguing thing he's ever discovered. "It's pretty interesting."

Yunho slides into the seat next to Mingi, chuckling. "I think we've all been wondering about you," he says, glancing at the others as if they're all in on some unspoken joke. "You keep to yourself a lot. Why's that?"

You swallow, unease creeping up your throat. Why are they talking to you like this? Why are they acting like they're interested now when just a week ago they couldn't be bothered to even look your way?

Wooyoung, always the one to push boundaries, sits next to you with a sly smile. "I think we could get to know each other better," he says, his voice lowering, almost like a whisper meant only for you. His fingers brush your wrist as he leans closer, making you flinch slightly.

You don't know how to respond. You feel frozen, unsure of what to make of this attention. They're flirting with you—touching you in ways that are unfamiliar, and you can't figure out why. The confusion makes your head spin, and you can't help but feel a little sick.

You glance around, searching for an escape, but there's no sign of Yuji. She's still not back. You want to leave, but something keeps you rooted to the spot, your hand trembling slightly around your pencil.

San, who's been watching you carefully, leans forward with a teasing grin. "Come on, Y/N," he says, voice light and playful, "you don't have to be so shy. We're just trying to get to know you."

Mingi chuckles and lightly nudges you, his fingers brushing against your shoulder. "Yeah, just relax a little. You might actually enjoy hanging out with us."

Yunho adds, his tone casual, almost as if this is the most normal thing in the world, "You're not so bad once you open up, you know?"

Wooyoung flicks his gaze from you to the others, amused by your discomfort. He leans in even closer, his face just a little too near for comfort. "Or maybe you're just playing hard to get." His hand rests lightly on the edge of your chair, brushing your arm once more.

You feel a chill run down your spine. What's going on? Why are they acting like this? You want to ask, but the words don't come. Instead, you keep your eyes on your sketchbook, focusing on the page in front of you to try to ground yourself.

You can feel Hongjoong and Seonghwa watching from a distance, their eyes never leaving you. Their smiles are quiet, knowing, like they're watching a game unfold and you're the centerpiece of it.

Jongho and Yeosang, always the more reserved of the group, are observing, but they don't join in. They don't have to. You can feel their eyes on you, sharp and calculating.

You don't know what to say. You don't even know if you want to say anything. All of this is too much. Why are they suddenly interested in you? Why are they treating you like this when they've been so cold before?

San chuckles as he watches your confused expression. "I'm just messing with you, Y/N. Don't take it too seriously."

You try to give him a small smile, but it feels empty, like a mask you're putting on to hide the way your chest is tightening, the way your thoughts are racing.

Mingi, never one to leave well enough alone, leans even closer. "But seriously," he says, lowering his voice just a touch, "you're pretty cute when you're flustered. It's like we've been waiting for you to come out of your shell."

You want to shout at them to stop, but you don't. You don't have the energy. You don't know how to fight back against this strange attention. You just want them to leave you alone, to stop acting like they've suddenly discovered something interesting about you. But they're here now, and they're not going anywhere.

You feel trapped in your own body, stuck between the walls of this library, surrounded by their constant attention. You can't breathe.

Just then, you hear the door creak open, and you look up to see Yuji walking back into the library. Her gaze immediately falls on the group, and she walks toward you with a frown.

She doesn't say anything at first, just stands there for a moment, observing the situation. Finally, she clears her throat and addresses them. "Are you guys bothering Y/N?" she asks, her voice soft but firm. There's a hint of concern in her eyes as she turns to look at you.

You're grateful for her presence, but you're also embarrassed. You don't want her to have to step in for you. You don't want anyone to see how uncomfortable this is making you.

Ateez exchanges a few looks, clearly amused by Yuji's interruption. San shrugs with a playful grin. "We're just getting to know her better," he says, leaning back in his chair as if nothing's wrong.

Yuji doesn't seem convinced, her gaze flickering between you and the group. "Well, I think that's enough for now," she says, a slight edge in her voice.

They all laugh lightly, but there's something about the way they're looking at you now—something unsettling. You can feel their eyes on you even after Yuji's come to your defense.

And as Yuji sits down beside you again, you realize something. It's not just the flirting that's confusing. It's the fact that, in some twisted way, you feel like you're the one being toyed with.

And it's only just begun.

You're still sitting at the table when Yuji returns, wiping her hands on her jeans and glancing around suspiciously.

"They were here, weren't they?" she asks, sliding back into the seat across from you.

You don't say anything right away. Your pencil is still in your hand, frozen in place above your sketchbook, but your eyes are unfocused, distant.

"Y/N."

Your name pulls you out of your daze. You glance up at her. She's watching you closely now—concern knitting her brows together.

"They were just... being weird again," you mutter, voice low.

Yuji frowns. "Weird how?"

You hesitate. Your mind replays San's smirk, the way Mingi kept leaning closer than necessary, how Wooyoung's fingers brushed your wrist like it meant something—and those stupid, mocking smiles from Hongjoong and Seonghwa. Like they knew exactly what they were doing to you.

"I don't know," you lie. "They were just... bothering me. Like always."

Yuji crosses her arms, her tone softer than before. "Y/N, they weren't bothering you. They were flirting."

You let out a bitter laugh, though there's no humor in it. "Don't joke."

"I'm not," she says. "You didn't notice the way they were all over you? The touches, the smiles? It's like they were trying to get a reaction out of you."

You shake your head. "They hate me. Just last week, they were calling me names with everyone else."

"Well, something changed," Yuji says. "And I don't like it."

You finally meet her gaze. "Why are you so worried?"

Yuji doesn't answer right away. She leans forward, her voice lower now, more intimate. "Because it's like you don't even realize what they're doing. And I don't want them messing with you—not when you're already dealing with so much."

That hits harder than you expect. You feel your chest tighten, your throat sting.

"I'm fine," you say automatically.

But Yuji's expression doesn't budge.

"No, you're not."

You look down, your fingers curling tightly around the edge of your sketchbook.

For a long moment, neither of you says anything. The library buzzes softly in the background—pages turning, quiet whispers, the occasional creak of a chair—but between you and Yuji, it's just silence.

Then, softly, she adds, "You can tell me if it's getting worse, you know."

You nod, though you don't lift your head. "I know."

She doesn't push you after that. She just sits there with you, quiet, steady. And somehow, even with the weight in your chest, that small silence feels like a kind of safety. _______

The rest of the day passes in a blur of silence and stillness. With no classes to rush to, most students scatter across the school—some lounging in the commons, others holed up in empty classrooms, music rooms, or the gym. You and Yuji eventually part ways when she gets pulled into a study session with one of her club friends, promising to meet up again before heading home.

You find yourself alone again.

There's a quiet corner on the second floor near the old art room—abandoned, dusty, and perfect for disappearing. You curl up on the floor with your sketchbook, letting your pencil move on instinct, not thinking, just drawing. It's one of those self-portraits again. The kind you don't want anyone to see. This one feels even darker than the last.

Time slips by unnoticed.

Eventually, you get up and head down toward the front entrance. You figure you'll leave early—no one will notice anyway.

But as you round the corner near the lockers, you stop.

Yeosang is there, leaning against the wall like he's been waiting. Alone.

His eyes find yours instantly.

"Skipping out early?" he asks, voice quiet but clear in the empty hallway.

You blink, caught off guard. "...It's an asynchronous day. There's nothing to skip."

He gives a small smirk, but it doesn't quite reach his eyes. "Fair enough."

You shift your weight, unsure whether to walk past or wait for him to say something else. You hate how nervous he makes you—calm, unreadable, like he sees things you don't want anyone to see.

Yeosang's gaze drops for a moment—to your sketchbook, clutched against your chest.

"You draw a lot," he says, almost thoughtfully.

You grip the sketchbook tighter. "Yeah. So?"

He shrugs. "Just noticing."

A silence hangs between you. You start to walk past him, but just as you do, he says, "You looked different today."

You stop.

"What do you mean?"

He doesn't elaborate—doesn't even look at you when he says, "You just did."

Then he turns and walks away, leaving you standing there in the dim hallway, heart pounding and mind spinning.

The bus ride home feels longer than usual.

You sit by the window, sketchbook pressed tightly to your chest, the smudged pencil lines of your latest self-portrait bleeding through the page. You can still hear Yeosang's voice in your head. You looked different today. You don't know what he meant, but it unsettles you.

Maybe he saw it—that emptiness you keep trying to cover up. Maybe he really was just noticing.

You get off two stops early. You don't want to go home yet.

The walk helps. The air is cool, sharp against your skin, and the silence is just loud enough to keep your thoughts from spiraling completely. But by the time you finally unlock the front door and step inside, everything rushes back in at once.

Your mom's voice calls out from her office. "Hey, sweetheart! You home?"

You don't respond at first. Just kick off your shoes and shuffle to your room. You close the door gently behind you—not slamming it, just enough to say not now.

Your room is your only sanctuary.

You toss your bag down and sink into your desk chair. The sketchbook lands on your desk with a dull thud, flipping open to the self-portrait from earlier. The eyes stare back at you—hollow, sunken, vacant.

You look away.

But then, almost without thinking, you reach for the small leather journal buried in your drawer. You flip it open to a blank page, the pen already in your hand before you realize what you're doing.

I don't feel real today.

You pause.

Or maybe I do, and I just hate the way it feels. I thought maybe I was okay for a second. Yuji helps. But...

You don't finish the sentence. You slam the journal shut before you can write something you'll regret.

There's a knock.

Your mom's voice follows. "Can I come in for a second?"

You hesitate. "It's open."

She steps in, holding a mug of tea in one hand. She sets it down beside you like she used to when you were younger—when you'd get too overwhelmed with homework or when life felt just a little too heavy.

"I thought you might want something warm," she says gently. "Long day?"

You nod once, eyes still glued to the desk.

She lingers for a moment, her gaze drifting to your sketchbook.

"That's a new one," she says, pointing to the portrait. "It's really good... but why do you look so sad in it?"

You feel your throat tighten. You don't want to talk about this. You don't want to feel this.

"It's just a sketch," you mutter. "Doesn't mean anything."

Your mom doesn't press. But her silence is loud. When you finally glance up, you catch the look she gives you—worry, confusion, maybe even fear. She shares a glance with the mug, then you again.

"I'll let you rest," she says softly. "Dinner's in an hour."

She leaves the room, closing the door behind her.

You stare down at the self-portrait again.

Maybe it's not the drawing that's sad. Maybe it's the reflection. _______

It's quiet again.

Dinner was brief, mostly silent. Your mom kept giving you those sidelong glances, like she wanted to say something but didn't know how to start. You kept your eyes on your plate the entire time.

Now you're curled up on your bed, the dim glow of your lamp casting long shadows across your room. The TV is on, but muted. Background noise. You're not really watching.

Your phone buzzes once beside you.

Yuji [8:52 PM]: hey, that party's this friday btw. you're still coming w me right?

You stare at the message for a second, thumb hovering.

A part of you wants to say no. Crowds, music, laughter—it all feels too loud, too heavy. But there's another part... the smaller one, the one that remembers Yuji's hand brushing yours in the cafeteria, the way she looked at you when you said yes the first time. Like you mattered.

You start typing.

You [8:54 PM]: yeah. i'll come.

There's no reply right away, but you can picture her smile anyway.

You set the phone down and glance at your sketchbook across the room. The self-portrait still sits on your desk. You flip over onto your side, away from it. You don't want to see those eyes again—not tonight. _______ THURSDAY

The usual whispers follow you through the hallway as you walk to your locker. The familiar weight of judgment and curiosity from the other students presses on your shoulders. Today, however, it feels different. There's something in the air, an unfamiliar tension as you approach your locker.

Yuji is already there, her eyes flicking up from her phone when she sees you approach. A small smile forms on her lips, but the usual warm greeting is overshadowed by the thick atmosphere surrounding you both. She notices it, too, but doesn't comment on it as you both prepare for the day ahead.

You quickly grab your books, avoiding eye contact with the other students nearby. The whispers grow louder as you finish up. It's as if everyone's waiting for something—waiting for you to slip, to mess up, to give them something to laugh at.

Yuji stands a little taller beside you, her presence grounding, but there's an unspoken understanding between you two. She knows, but she doesn't push. She lets you be, even though the concern is written clearly in her gaze. _______

In the library...again. Yuji went to the bathroom, leaving you alone once more.

You look around and notice something... a familiar book.

You get up and walk up to shelf the book is located on.

You trace your fingers along the faded edges of a book you almost forgot you had. The cover is torn, the colors muted from age, but the title still glimmers faintly beneath the dust. "The Sun That Couldn't Shine." You blink, and the world seems to shift.

Suddenly, you're small again—legs dangling off your bed, knees pressed together in pajama pants too long for your frame. Your mom's voice echoes gently as she reads the last line of the book, her hand smoothing over your hair. "Even the quietest suns still burn."

You remember clutching a crayon, scribbling something in the back cover the moment she left the room. Your spelling wasn't perfect back then, but the words were full of something you don't feel anymore.

"One day, I'll be okay. I just need to be seen."

Back in the present, you stare at that messy, hopeful scrawl. It hits like a punch. That little version of you—small hands, big dreams—really believed in something. In being okay. In being seen.

Now? You don't even remember what it felt like to believe in anything at all.

"Hey... you okay?"

Her voice is gentle, but it cuts through the silence like a bell. You flinch slightly, closing the book quicker than you mean to. Yuji stands behind you, holding a small cup of water, her brows pinched with concern.

You nod, too fast. "Yeah. I'm fine."

She doesn't believe you—of course she doesn't—but she doesn't push either. She walks in and sits beside you on the floor, glancing at the old book in your lap.

"What's that?"

You hesitate before answering, fingers brushing the edge of the cover. "Just a book from when I was a kid. My mom used to read it to me."

Yuji hums softly and leans her head back against the wall. "I used to love stuff like that. You kind of forget how safe it felt to be read to, y'know?"

You don't answer right away. The air feels heavier now. You stare down at your hands, still resting on the book, and something inside your chest twists.

Yuji turns her head to look at you. "You sure you're okay?"

"I said I'm fine."

It comes out sharper than intended, and instantly, you regret it. Yuji flinches, just slightly, her expression falling.

You swallow hard, curling your fingers into your palms. "Sorry. I just... It's been a weird day."

She nods slowly, watching you. Then, she says softly, "You don't have to pretend with me, you know."

You look away. You wish you could believe that.

But for now, you just murmur, "Thanks," and rest your head back against the wall beside her, eyes closing as the quiet hum of the house settles around you both.

You sit there in silence, the tension between you and your mom still lingering in the air, even after she left. Yuji's presence beside you is steady, quiet, like a tether keeping you grounded while the storm inside you simmers low.

"You ever think about what it would be like if none of this ever happened?" she asks after a while, her voice gentle.

You glance at her, brows furrowing. "What do you mean?"

She shrugs, fingers picking at the frayed seam of her jeans. "If school wasn't hell. If people weren't so cruel. If... if you didn't feel like disappearing all the time."

That word again—disappearing.

You let out a soft exhale, staring at the floor. "I used to think about that all the time. Like... if I just vanished. No goodbye. Just gone. Would anyone even care?"

Yuji turns to face you fully, her expression tightening. "Y/N..."

"I'm not saying I'm gonna do anything," you add quickly, your voice quieter now. "It's just... sometimes it feels like I'm already gone, you know? Like I'm just floating through everything. Like I'm hollow."

The silence that follows is thick with unspoken worry.

"You matter," she says suddenly, her voice stronger than before. "Even if they made you feel like you don't. You do. I see you."

You blink, caught off guard by the certainty in her words.

You can't bring yourself to say anything, not really. So instead, you reach into your bag and pull out your sketchbook—worn, smudged, the corners soft from being touched too much. You flip past old drawings, hesitant, until you find a blank page.

You glance at her, then down at the paper, and start to draw.

Yuji doesn't say anything as she watches your hand move, the pencil gliding over the page. Slowly, a figure begins to form—a girl, alone in a room. Surrounded by darkness, faceless shadows, their eyes all fixed on her. But in her hand, there's something small. A faint flicker of light. A flower. Maybe a flame. You're not sure yet.

"That's... beautiful," Yuji whispers. "But sad."

You shrug, not looking up. "It's just how I feel sometimes."

She's quiet for a moment, then leans in closer. "Is the light hope?"

You pause, your pencil hovering above the paper. "I don't know. Maybe it's someone."

Your eyes flick up to meet hers, just for a second.

Yuji doesn't say anything. She doesn't need to. Her gaze says enough.

"I hope she holds on to it," she murmurs, almost like she's talking to the girl on the page. Or maybe... to you.

You don't respond—not out loud. Instead, you keep drawing.

And for now, that's enough. _______

The courtyard feels like the calmest part of the school, a place to breathe, away from the chatter and the stares. Yuji and you have found a quiet spot under a large tree, just the two of you. The sunlight filters through the leaves, casting gentle shadows on the ground as you sit on the bench.

Yuji's eating her lunch with enthusiasm, a lighthearted energy in contrast to your stillness. You've barely touched your food.

"Are you going to eat that?" Yuji asks, her voice casual, but there's an undertone of concern as she looks at your untouched sandwich.

You shrug, poking at the sandwich with your fingers. "I'm not really hungry," you say, your voice flat. It's easier to say that than admit you're just not in the mood for anything, not when everything feels so heavy.

Yuji leans forward, her brow furrowing slightly. "You always say that," she points out, her tone a mix of teasing and worry. "Come on, just take a bite. For me?" She grins, trying to lighten the mood, but there's something more serious behind her eyes.

You sigh, feeling the weight of her gaze on you. You don't want to argue. You don't want to make her worry more than she already does. So, with a reluctant breath, you pick up the sandwich and take a small bite, just enough to satisfy her.

Yuji watches you closely, and when she sees you chew, her face lights up, proud of her small victory. "See? That wasn't so bad, right?"

You swallow the bite, almost mechanically. "Yeah, fine," you mumble, not really feeling the taste of it, but trying to make Yuji happy.

Yuji's smile softens, her eyes glancing at you in a way that makes you feel like she can see through your calm exterior. She leans back against the tree, crossing her arms, but her eyes never leave you. "You're not fooling me, you know. I know you don't just eat to make me happy. You always try to downplay things like this. It's okay to just let it be for once."

You shift uncomfortably, your gaze dropping to the half-eaten sandwich in your hands. It's hard for you to talk about things like this. Eating, or the lack of it, is one of those silent battles you've always fought alone. But Yuji's here, and she's waiting for you to say something more.

"I don't know," you whisper, feeling the words slip out before you can stop them. "It just doesn't feel worth it sometimes, you know? Like nothing feels right."

Yuji's expression softens even more, and she sits a little closer, the space between you growing smaller. "I get it," she says quietly, her voice gentle. "But you don't have to do this alone. You don't have to feel like it's not worth it. I'm here. And maybe... maybe we can make it worth it together."

The sincerity in her voice catches you off guard, and for a moment, you just stare at her, unsure of how to respond. It's not that you don't want to believe her—it's just hard. Hard to trust that anything will change. Hard to trust that the weight you carry will actually lift.

But Yuji's here, and you don't want to push her away.

You take another small bite of your sandwich, this time with less resistance. Yuji watches, a soft smile tugging at the corners of her lips. It's a small moment, but it feels like progress, like maybe you're not as alone in this as you always believed.

For the first time today, you let yourself relax, just a little.

The bathroom is cold. Quiet. The only sound is the hum of fluorescent lights and your soft footsteps as you approach the mirror. You stare at the reflection for a second too long — already uncomfortable with how your face looks today. Your hair. Your arms. Everything.

You're not hungry. You haven't been. But Yuji looked so hopeful when you bit into that sandwich earlier... you couldn't let her down.

Your stomach churns.

Then the door creaks open.

Laughter follows.

Three girls strut in, and the moment they spot you, their voices drop to that sharp, cruel whisper that's meant to be heard.

"She's seriously still here? Like a stray dog."

"Yuji's probably just using her for sympathy points."

"Imagine looking like that and thinking you belong."

Their eyes flick to your body before they giggle and walk out, leaving a bitter silence behind them.

You breathe in slowly.

Then the flashbacks begin.

Flashback – Old School, 7th Grade PE Class

"Come on, Y/N, hustle! The other girls aren't waiting on you!" Your old gym teacher, frustrated as usual, barked across the field.

A group of girls nearby snickered.

"Why does she run like that? She looks weird."

"She's not even big, but her legs still jiggle. Gross."

Flashback – Freshman Year, Hallway

"If I looked like her, I'd never take my jacket off."

A voice behind you. You didn't even know who said it. But you heard it. You always did.

"She tries way too hard. It's kind of sad."

"You have such a pretty face... if only you were a little slimmer."

You were never overweight. Never even close. But it didn't matter. Because they made you feel like you were.

They said it enough times, in enough ways, until the mirror stopped telling you the truth.

Back in the present, your throat tightens.

You push into a stall and lock it behind you, heart racing.

You drop to your knees.

And for a moment, you're numb — then full of guilt, then nothing again. Your fingers tremble as they press against your lips.

You just want the food out. Like it doesn't belong.

Like you don't belong.

It happens quickly. A quiet purge, like muscle memory.

When it's over, you stay on the floor for a while. Arms wrapped around your middle. Breathing shallow. Eyes closed.

No one sees this version of you.

Not Yuji.

Not your mom.

No one.

You sit there, curled up in the bathroom stall. The world feels distant, muted. It's like you're watching yourself from the outside, as if someone else is living in your body, making the choices.

After a while, you stand up, shaky legs supporting your weight. You force yourself to wash your hands, then splash cold water on your face. It stings, and the coldness sharpens your mind.

You don't have much time. You can't stay here forever.

You stare at your reflection again, looking for any trace of what you were before. Any hint of normalcy.

But it's gone. And you wonder if it was ever really there in the first place.

You dry your face with a paper towel, wipe away any remaining trace of the earlier moment, and step out of the stall. The bathroom's still empty, but the air feels heavier now.

The lunch bell rings, and you linger by the bathroom for a while, trying to pull yourself together. You don't want to face anyone yet. Not after what just happened. The cold, harsh reflection of yourself still lingers in your mind, making your chest tighten.

You know you can't avoid it forever, though.

You slowly make your way out of the bathroom and back into the crowded hallway, your steps heavy, like you're wading through molasses. But when you reach the courtyard, you spot Yuji sitting on the steps by the garden, looking down at her phone. She notices you right away, her face lighting up with that easy smile you've grown to love.

"Hey, Y/N," she calls out, waving you over, her voice warm and welcoming.

You feel your stomach drop. You don't want to do this — pretend everything's fine when it's clearly not. But what else can you do?

You take a deep breath, steeling yourself. You force your feet to move toward her.

"Hey," you reply, trying to sound as casual as possible as you sit down next to her. Your body feels stiff, like you're wearing someone else's skin.

Yuji gives you a quick glance, her smile slipping slightly as she notices the way you're acting. But she doesn't say anything about it. Instead, she shifts so that she's facing you more directly.

"Everything okay?" she asks, her tone gentle, like she's treading carefully. "You were gone for a bit."

You hesitate for a moment before answering, not sure if you want to say anything at all. You glance at her and then quickly look away, trying to find something to focus on other than her gaze.

"I'm fine," you mutter, the words automatic. You don't know why you say it, but you can't help it. It's easier than explaining how you feel, how much everything is falling apart.

Yuji looks at you with concern, clearly not convinced. "You've been saying that a lot lately," she observes softly, a hint of worry creeping into her voice. "I'm really starting to think it's not true."

You feel your chest tighten again, like a vice is slowly squeezing the air out of you. You want to tell her, you really do. But it feels like the words are lodged in your throat, stuck behind a wall you can't tear down.

"I'm just... not hungry today," you say, as if that's enough of an explanation. It's a lie, but it's the easiest one to give.

Yuji tilts her head, watching you carefully. She reaches out, placing her hand gently on your arm. "Y/N, I'm serious. I'm worried about you."

For a moment, you freeze, the weight of her concern hitting you harder than you expected. The gentle pressure of her hand on your arm feels grounding, but it also makes your insides twist uncomfortably. You don't want her to worry. You don't want her to see how broken you are.

"I'm fine," you repeat, your voice quieter this time, barely above a whisper.

Yuji doesn't let go of your arm, though. She keeps her hand there, and you can feel her warmth seeping into you. You glance at her face, and for a split second, you see something in her eyes — a mix of concern and frustration, but mostly care. She's not buying your words, but she doesn't push you either.

She sighs softly. "Okay, but don't think I'm not here for you, alright? You can talk to me anytime. I just... I don't want you to feel alone in this."

The sincerity in her voice makes your throat tighten again, and you have to blink quickly to push away the sudden lump of emotion threatening to rise up. You don't know how to respond, so you just nod.

"I know," you say, your voice barely audible. "Thanks, Yuji."

She gives you a small, understanding smile, but it doesn't quite reach her eyes. There's still a hint of worry in her expression, but she doesn't say anything more. You're not sure if you're relieved or more anxious.

The two of you sit there for a while, the silence wrapping around you like a heavy blanket. The world moves around you, people chatting, walking, and laughing, but you feel detached from it all. You don't belong here. You don't belong anywhere.

You glance at Yuji again, noticing how she's looking at you like she's waiting for you to say something more. But you can't bring yourself to speak.

Eventually, Yuji looks down at her phone and starts scrolling through it absently, but you can tell her mind isn't really on it. Her attention keeps drifting back to you, checking in silently as if she's waiting for something you haven't yet said.

You know she's not going to let this go. You know she won't stop worrying. But for now, all you can do is sit here with her, pretending everything is fine — even though you both know it's not. _______ The school bell rings, signaling the end of the day. Students trickle out of the classrooms, laughter echoing in the halls. You, however, barely hear any of it. The noise of the world outside seems distant, muffled, like you're underwater.

Yuji walks beside you as you make your way to the school gates, her upbeat chatter something you can barely process. You try to focus on her, on her words, but everything feels like it's swirling too fast around you.

You just need to get home. You need to escape this place, to get away from the stares and the whispers and the weight of it all.

"Hey, are you alright?" Yuji asks, looking at you with those wide, concerned eyes again. She's noticed the way you've been shutting down lately.

"Yeah, I'm fine," you say, the words coming out too quickly. It's your default response, the one you're so used to, but something in the back of your mind nags at you. The lie feels too thin now, like it can't hold up under the weight of everything.

Yuji doesn't press, though. She just gives you a small smile and pats your arm lightly. "You sure? If you need to talk later, you know where to find me."

You nod, too exhausted to say anything else. You want to tell her everything, but every time you try, the words feel like they're stuck in your throat. It's easier to let her believe the lie.

———————————————————————————————

The walk home is quiet, the evening air cool against your skin. You try to focus on the little things — the rustling of leaves in the breeze, the distant sound of cars passing — but your mind is a tangled mess of thoughts, none of which seem to make sense.

You arrive home, the door creaking open as you step inside. The house feels too big, too silent. You drop your bag by the door and make your way to your room, your legs heavy with the weight of the day.

You sit down at your desk, the familiar sight of your sketchbook and journal greeting you. But for some reason, you can't bring yourself to pick them up.

Instead, you sit there, staring blankly at the wall, feeling the emptiness spread through your chest like a slow ache. You can hear your mom moving around downstairs, but you don't have the energy to interact with her right now.

A soft knock on your door breaks the silence.

"Y/N?" your mom calls, her voice tentative. "Dinner's ready. You should come eat."

You don't respond immediately, staring at the door as if you could will her away. You don't feel like eating. You don't feel like doing anything. But eventually, you stand up, your legs shaky as you move toward the door.

You open it slowly, seeing your mom standing there, a faint smile on her face. "You okay?"

You want to say something. You want to tell her how you feel, how everything feels too much, but the words don't come. Instead, you give her a small, tight smile and shake your head. "I'm fine."

Her smile falters, and for a moment, she looks like she wants to say something more. But she just sighs and nods, her expression softening. "Alright. Just... remember, I'm here if you need me."

You nod absently, stepping past her and heading down the stairs to the kitchen. The silence between you both feels heavier now, like you're worlds apart.

As you sit down at the table, your eyes glance briefly at the food in front of you, but the thought of eating makes your stomach twist. Instead, you push the food around with your fork, pretending to eat.

The conversation at the table is distant, like it's happening far away, beyond your reach. You can't focus on what they're saying, can't bring yourself to care. Everything feels out of place, like you're watching from behind a glass.

When dinner is finally over, you retreat back to your room, closing the door behind you with a soft click. You stand in the middle of your room, looking at your sketchbook again, the journal still sitting untouched on your desk.

You reach for it, running your fingers over the worn cover. For a moment, you wonder if it's worth it. But you know you can't keep hiding forever.

With a deep breath, you open the journal and begin to write.

☆𝑻𝑨𝑮𝑳𝑰𝑺𝑻☆|@anonymip @miyadollie @yuyuslay @hannahstacos @beljakovina @rinabluess

do not steal, copy, or claim my work as your own. ALL RIGHTS RESERVES FOR noirelyx

[sundeyyy]

—WATCH YOUR BACK

IV: I'M SORRY PART 1

pairing| BadBoys!Ateez x Broken!Reader

wc|5.5k

synopsis|Uh Oh... Hongjoong found out about your kiss with Seonghwa. Tensions rise when you find your in trouble again—this time with a harsh gym teacher and a group of students who push you too far. Emotions run high, and the line between hate and something deeper begins to blur.

warnings!|Bullying, Verbal abuse, Humiliation, Self-hate, Self-ridicule, Breakdowns, Self-doubt, Jealousy, Possessiveness, Implied self-harm, Dark thoughts

disclaimer!|This series is not a representation of the idols as individuals and is to not be taken seriously. If you’re uncomfortable with the content in the series or on my page, then feel free to click off at any moment.

———————————————————————————————

It's Tuesday morning, and the hallways are already alive with noise—shoes squeaking on the floors, voices bouncing off the lockers, the usual chaos of another school day. You weave through the crowds, ignoring the looks thrown your way, your only goal to find Yuji.

You shift your bag higher on your shoulder, scanning the sea of students. Maybe she's already in class? You're about to pull out your phone to text her when suddenly—

A hand curls around your arm, firm and unyielding.

You whirl around, ready to snap, but the words catch in your throat when you see Hongjoong standing there. His grip isn't rough, but it's enough to tell you there's no easy escape.

You open your mouth to say something—anything—but Hongjoong's sharp gaze cuts you off before you can. Without a word, he tugs you toward the side hall, steering you out of the main flow of students.

You don't have time to react before he pulls you into an empty classroom and shuts the door with a soft click.

"What the hell is your problem?" you snap, yanking your arm back. Your heart thuds violently against your ribs.

Hongjoong steps closer, closing the already small distance between you. His jaw tight, his eyes burning into yours.

"You really think I wouldn't find out?" His voice is low, almost dangerous. "About you and Seonghwa?"

Your stomach flips.

"I don't know what you're talking about," you say, but your voice wavers, betraying you.

His mouth curves into a smirk. It's not kind—it's hungry.

"You kissed him," Hongjoong says, voice sharp, accusing. "Didn't you?"

You lift your chin stubbornly. "So what if I did?"

Something in Hongjoong's eyes darkens—like you've triggered something inside him.

Before you can say anything else, he surges forward and you're trapped between the wall and his body. His hands grip your hips, firm and possessive, as his mouth crashes into yours.

It's rougher than before. Angrier. His tongue sweeps into your mouth with a force that leaves you breathless, like he's trying to brand himself into you—remind you exactly who you belong to.

You hate yourself for how your knees almost buckle, for how your hands fist in the front of his shirt like you need him to keep you upright. You barely recognize yourself anymore.

When he finally pulls back, you're gasping, your lips tingling, your head spinning.

His forehead rests against yours for a second, his breath warm against your mouth. Then, his lips brush against your ear, and his voice drops into a low, dangerous whisper that sends shivers down your spine.

"Just a reminder, princess," he murmurs. "I had you first... and if you're not careful—" His hand trails lightly up your thigh, just for a second, just enough to make your whole body lock up, "—I'll make sure you remember exactly who you fucking belong to."

Your breath catches in your throat.

Hongjoong smirks darkly, then steps away, leaving you trembling, confused, and burning from the inside out.

Without another word, he slips out of the classroom, leaving you alone with your heart racing and your mind an absolute mess.

You press your back against the wall, swallowing hard, trying to calm yourself down.

What the hell just happened?

And why does part of you want it to happen again?

You don't know how long you stand there, heart racing, lips still tingling from the way Hongjoong kissed you like he owned you.

Eventually, you force yourself to move, legs shaky as you push out of the empty classroom and back into the hallway. You blend into the crowd, ducking your head low. No one can know. Especially not Yuji.

You spot her near your lockers, waving her hand when she sees you.

"Y/N! There you are!" she says brightly, jogging over. "I've been looking everywhere for you. You okay?"

You force a smile that feels more like a grimace. "Yeah, sorry. I got... sidetracked."

Yuji tilts her head, frowning slightly. "You sure?"

You nod quickly, clutching the strap of your bag tighter. "I'm fine. Just tired."

She doesn't press, thankfully, and loops her arm through yours as you both start walking toward your first class together.

You're painfully aware of the phantom feeling of Hongjoong's hands still burning on your skin. Every few steps, you glance over your shoulder without thinking, half-expecting to see him watching you.

But he's nowhere in sight.

And somehow, that almost feels worse. ————

You walk into the gym, eyes scanning the room for Yuji. The usual buzzing energy fills the air as students prepare for the day's activities. But as soon as you step inside, the crowd parts slightly, and you see them—a group of students you barely know, all wearing that all-too-familiar look of disdain.

"Well, well, look who it is," one sneers, stepping in front of you.

You feel the heat of your anger rising. The last thing you need right now is more of this bullshit. "Move," you mutter, eyes narrowing.

Instead of backing down, they close in, and one of them shoves you hard, knocking you back a few steps. You steady yourself, but before you can even react, another one of them lunges forward, his fist connecting with your face with a sickening crack. The impact sends you reeling, and you feel the sharp pain of your nose splitting open. Blood gushes down your face as the force of the punch leaves you dazed.

You stumble backward, disoriented, but your body reacts before your brain can catch up. The fiery anger you've been suppressing erupts, and you throw yourself into the fray. You strike back, your fist connecting with the face of the student who punched you. They stumble back, but the fight doesn't end there.

Your vision goes red with anger. You swing wildly, adrenaline flooding your system, throwing punches at anyone who comes too close. Blood continues to pour from your nose, but you fight through it, fueled by the rage and the unfairness of it all.

Yuji, who had been nearby, rushes over as soon as she sees what's happening. She shouts your name, trying to get to you, but before she can reach you, your gym teacher intervenes, grabbing you by the arm and pulling you away from the group.

"Y/N! What the hell do you think you're doing?" the teacher yells, her face red with anger. "You think fighting like this is the answer? You're out of control!"

You bite your lip, trying to hold back the tears. You're the one bleeding, you're the one being attacked, but somehow, you're the one being punished? The injustice of it is overwhelming, but you stay quiet, refusing to give them the satisfaction of seeing you break.

The student who punched you stands there, a smug look on his face, clearly thinking he's won. The teacher turns to him, looking at him with a concerned expression. "Are you okay?" she asks, her tone dripping with sympathy as if what happened to you didn't even matter.

The bile rises in your throat as she comforts the person who attacked you. You clench your fists at your sides, trying to contain the fury building within you. You've been hurt, but now it's like none of it matters.

Meanwhile, Ateez, who's been watching the whole thing unfold from the bleachers, stays dead quiet. They're all staring at you—some with wide eyes, others with unreadable expressions. But one thing is clear: they're all captivated by what they've just witnessed.

Hongjoong's eyes are intense, watching you fight back with a certain admiration. There's something about your fiery defiance that calls to him, something darkly alluring. His grip on the railing tightens, his body coiled like a spring, ready to snap.

Seonghwa watches, a knowing smirk curling his lips. "That girl," he murmurs under his breath, his voice low and approving. "She's dangerous." His eyes glint with something predatory, fascinated by the fierceness in you.

Mingi, always the flirt, grins from ear to ear. "She's got fire. I like it," he says, voice smooth and low as he watches you fight.

Yeosang, usually calm, raises an eyebrow. His expression softens slightly. "She doesn't take shit from anyone," he observes, his voice quiet but with a hint of admiration.

San and Wooyoung exchange glances. Both seem to be in awe of your tenacity. There's something about the way you fight that draws them in, pulling them deeper into whatever strange attraction they all feel for you.

But then, as the gym teacher pulls you away from the altercation, everything shifts. She turns back to the student you fought, looking at him with genuine concern. "Are you okay?" she repeats, her tone soft, as if what happened to you didn't even matter.

It doesn't take long before Hongjoong's mood shifts. His chest tightens in frustration, and that possessiveness, that simmering anger that's always been there, comes rushing to the surface. He watches as you, the one who fought for herself, the one who was punished unjustly, is treated like the villain in this scenario. His jaw clenches, and a storm brews in his eyes.

"You've got to be kidding me," Hongjoong mutters, his voice low and filled with barely-contained rage. The others sense it too. They can feel the shift in the air, that same feeling of tension and dissatisfaction.

Seonghwa, usually calm, looks at Hongjoong, catching the intensity in his gaze. "This isn't right," he murmurs, his own anger bubbling beneath the surface.

Mingi tilts his head, his smile fading into a more serious expression. "She fights with everything she's got... but they still blame her?" His voice is laced with disbelief. "That's fucked up."

Yeosang sighs, running a hand through his hair. "Something's wrong with this picture."

Even Wooyoung and San are silent now, their earlier amusement gone. The way Y/N's been treated doesn't sit right with them, and they all feel it. But none of them can act on it—not yet, anyway.

As the teacher escorts you out of the gym, your eyes burning with unshed tears from the unfairness, the boys watch you go. Hongjoong looks at his friends, his gaze dark and unreadable. "We're going to talk about this," he mutters, his possessiveness and anger mixing into something dangerous.

But none of them can say anything. Not in front of the others. Not yet. ———-

You walk through the halls of the school, your head lowered. The sting from the attack earlier still throbs in your chest, but you push forward. You've always been the one who gets kicked down, always the one that people point at and laugh. It's nothing new. You're used to it by now.

You step into the nurse's office where Yuji is waiting. Her eyes immediately scan you, lingering on the blood trickling from your nose, the bruises forming on your face. She stands up quickly, a concerned look crossing her features.

"Y/N... what happened?" Yuji asks, voice filled with worry. Her eyes flicker between you and your injuries, but you can't bring yourself to answer her. Instead, you shake your head, not wanting to give her the satisfaction of seeing how much it actually hurts.

"I'm fine," you mutter, your voice flat, but Yuji doesn't buy it. She steps closer, her tone growing more urgent.

"No, you're not. You're bleeding, Y/N. What the hell happened?"

You hesitate for a moment, the words hanging in your throat, but you can't keep them in any longer. You feel them bubbling up, all the hurt and frustration you've been carrying. Finally, you speak, but it's like a flood that won't stop once it starts.

"Why does it matter?" you say bitterly. "It's always the same thing. Every time. It's me, isn't it? I'm the psycho bitch. The idiot. The worthless piece of shit. Useless. Fuck-up. I'm just a walking joke for everyone." You scoff, glancing at the floor, trying to hold back the tears threatening to spill. "What's new? Nothing's changed."

Yuji's face softens, her brow furrowing as she looks at you with concern. But you can't stop yourself, the words pouring out in a rush.

"They all call me a bitch. A freak. A psycho. It's all the same. I'm always the problem. The one everyone hates. The one who's always ruining everything. Useless, worthless, fucking annoying. I can't even go a day without someone calling me a piece of shit." You pause for a second, voice shaking, but you push through. "So yeah, no one cares. Not really. It doesn't matter what I do. I'm just this—this fucking mess. No one sees me as anything else."

Yuji is silent for a long moment, watching you. You avoid her gaze, unable to look her in the eye after everything you just said. It feels like a weight you didn't realize you were carrying until it all came rushing out.

Finally, Yuji speaks, her voice quieter than before, softer, as if she's trying to break through the walls you've built around yourself. "That's not true, Y/N. You're not any of those things. You're not worthless. You're not a fuck-up."

But you shake your head, a bitter laugh escaping you. "I am, Yuji. I've always been. That's just who I am. Why do you think I'm always alone? Why do you think I don't fit in anywhere? I'm a fucking waste of space. That's all I'll ever be to anyone."

Yuji's frown deepens, and she reaches for your hand, gently squeezing it. "Don't say that about yourself. You're not worthless."

You pull your hand away, refusing to believe her words. "People call me what they want. I've heard it all. I'm just—just an idiot. That bitch no one wants to be near. But it doesn't matter. I've learned to live with it."

You finally look at Yuji, and there's a brief moment of silence before you add, "I just... I don't care anymore, okay? It's fine. It's always been like this. I'll be fine."

Yuji stares at you for a moment longer, her expression torn between wanting to comfort you and not knowing how. She opens her mouth to say something, but the words don't come, so instead she just sits beside you, the room filled with a quiet tension.

You close your eyes, letting the silence settle in. You're used to this—this feeling of being alone, of being the one everyone hates. But for some reason, with Yuji, it doesn't hurt as much. ———- As you walk back into the gym, the laughter and jeers are immediate. They ripple through the crowd like a disease — ugly, infectious, cruel.

You don't lift your head. You don't meet their eyes. You already know what you'll find if you do: sneers, smirks, and mouths twisted with satisfaction at your pain.

You make your way toward the bleachers, trying to disappear, trying to fold yourself smaller, tighter.

"Look who's back," someone jeers loudly from across the court. Another student snickers, "Took her long enough. Probably crying in the nurse's office like a little bitch." A chorus of ugly laughter follows, each sound another blade shoved into your spine.

You bite the inside of your cheek hard enough to taste blood.

Yuji moves closer to you, her hand reaching out to gently touch your arm. "Hey... you okay?" she whispers, her voice barely audible over the chaos.

You yank your arm away before she can even really touch you, stepping back like you've been burned. "I'm fine," you snap, the words raw and shaking. You don't look at her. You can't. If you do, you might actually crumble.

Yuji stiffens, her mouth parting slightly like she wants to argue, to fight for you — but she stops herself. Instead, she stands there helplessly, watching you retreat into yourself.

Before you can even sit down, Mr. Han — another the gym teacher — storms across the gym toward you. His face is twisted in disgust, his voice sharp enough to flay skin.

"Y/N." His voice echoes, sharp and ugly. "Get over here."

Reluctantly, you shuffle closer, feeling every gaze in the room burn into your body.

"You're going to apologize," he barks, jerking his chin toward the student who punched you. The boy is grinning wide, cocky, victorious.

You don't move fast enough. Mr. Han's lip curls.

"What, are you stupid? I said move your ass!"

You clench your jaw so hard it aches, but you force yourself to stumble toward your attacker.

"I'm sorry," you mutter, the words like broken glass on your tongue. You don't mean them. You hate yourself for saying them.

The boy smirks wider, puffing up his chest like he just won a prizefight.

"And louder," Mr. Han snaps. "God, you're a fucking mess. A stupid little bitch."

The room roars with laughter. It feels like the walls are closing in, pressing the words against your skin until they seep into your bloodstream.

You barely whisper the apology again, your voice cracking under the weight of it.

Mr. Han waves you off like you're something stuck to his shoe. "Pathetic. Absolutely pathetic," he sneers before turning away, muttering over his shoulder:

"Fucking mess."

You stand there, frozen, while the student saunters back to his friends, all of them laughing, nudging each other, mocking you with cruel grins.

You feel it all — the shame, the rage, the despair — pounding in your chest like a second heartbeat.

You don't cry. You don't speak. You just stay frozen in place, wishing you could become invisible, wishing you could just not exist.

Yuji lingers nearby, her hands trembling slightly at her sides, helpless. You know she wants to come to you again. You know she's trying to find the right words, the right way to fix this.

But there's nothing she can do. There's nothing anyone can do.

Because right now, you're already too broken to be pieced back together.

And the worst part? You don't even care anymore.

Yuji stands frozen a few feet away, torn between stepping forward or backing off.

She finally makes up her mind, approaching you slowly like you're a wounded animal. "Y/N..." Her voice is soft, almost pleading. "You didn't deserve that. None of it. You know that, right?"

You don't move. You keep your head down, fists clenched so tightly that your nails bite into your palms.

Yuji inches closer, her hand trembling slightly as she reaches out again.

You jerk away before she can touch you. This time, you don't just pull back — you snap.

"Don't," you hiss, your voice low and venomous. "Don't touch me. Don't pretend you understand. You don't."

Yuji flinches, her hand falling limply to her side. She opens her mouth to argue, to say something, but nothing comes out.

The silence between you crackles like broken glass.

You lift your head just enough to meet her eyes. There's no warmth left in your gaze, no trace of the girl she laughed with, whispered secrets to under the covers, trusted with everything.

Only coldness. Only exhaustion. Only anger.

"Just leave me alone, Yuji," you say, your voice flat and dead. "I'm used to it."

And with that, you turn away from her, walking back to the bleachers — shoulders slumped, the weight of the world dragging you down with every step.

Yuji stands frozen, helpless, watching you disappear inside yourself.

She wants to chase after you. She wants to fix it. But deep down, she knows she can't.

Not yet.

Maybe not ever.

Ateez stands off to the side, grouped together by the gym doors, pretending to be distracted by the ongoing class. But they're not fooling anyone — especially not themselves.

Their eyes follow Y/N, like a magnet pulling them in, unable to look away.

They've been watching the whole time.

Watching as Yuji tried, and failed, to comfort her. Watching as Y/N's posture stiffened, how she turned her back on Yuji with an icy distance that wasn't there before. It's clear she's shutting everyone out, but the way she did it — so violently, so coldly — hits harder than any physical blow could.

Hongjoong's jaw clenches, his arms crossed, his expression unreadable. He's angry, not at Y/N, but at the situation. At what he's seeing. His fists flex involuntarily, but he's not sure who he wants to punch — the students who've tormented her, the gym teacher for playing his part in this cruel game, or even Y/N herself for retreating further into herself.

Seonghwa's eyes narrow, his gaze never leaving her as she walks away from Yuji. His chest tightens at the sharpness in her rejection, at how effortless she makes it seem to push everyone away. There's an edge to it that cuts through him. He wants to walk over to her, to tell her he won't leave her alone, but something holds him back. Something about the way she's broken. He knows he can't fix it, but still — the urge to be there for her is undeniable.

Mingi's hand grips the side of the bleachers, fingers digging into the wood like it might crack under the pressure. He's pissed, but more than that, he's frustrated. Not at Y/N, but at himself. At all of them. They've all been watching this happen, letting it happen, letting her slip further away. And yet, none of them know how to reach her. He's ready to do something about it, but can't figure out what.

Yunho's face is unreadable, but his lips press into a thin line, the veins in his neck straining with the tension he's holding in. He doesn't like this. Doesn't like seeing Y/N so alone in all of this. It hits him harder than he expected, but he keeps quiet, unsure of how to step in without making things worse.

Wooyoung stands next to him, arms crossed, a deep frown on his face. The laughter from the other students in the gym burns in his chest. He wants to say something, to stand up for Y/N, to confront the gym teacher for what he's doing, but he knows it won't make a difference. He's afraid that if he intervenes now, it will just make her hate them more.

San's normally playful demeanor is gone, replaced with a stiff, tense posture as he watches Y/N retreat into herself. He doesn't know what to do, doesn't know what to say. But he can't shake the feeling that something is breaking inside of her, something irreparable.

Finally, Jongho's gaze is unwavering. His expression is dark, but his stance is rigid. He's angry, too — angrier than he's been in a long time. But it's different from Hongjoong's anger. It's more personal. He's angry at himself for not noticing how bad it's gotten. He's angry at the system that's allowed Y/N to fall through the cracks. And he's angry that, despite all his strength, he's unable to change any of it.

The group falls silent as they watch Y/N walk away, retreating into the shadows, isolating herself once again. No one knows what to say, or how to fix what's been broken. All of them feel the weight of it pressing on their chests.

They're all stuck. Stuck between their desire to help and their inability to break through the walls she's built around herself.

And the worst part? Y/N doesn't seem to care. ______

After everything that happened, you feel like the weight of the world is pressing in on you. The mockery, the insults, the constant barrage of negativity—it builds up inside you, and the heaviness feels unbearable. With every passing second, the suffocating feeling only gets worse. You're trapped, and you can't seem to escape it.

Instead of going to your next class, you slip into the girls' bathroom, desperately needing a moment of solitude. The fluorescent lights above flicker and buzz, casting an eerie glow on your reflection in the cracked mirror. You stare at yourself, but you don't really see yourself. All you see is the name-calling, the mocking smiles, the whispers that haunt you.

"Psycho bitch... worthless... stupid... fuck-up..."

The insults echo in your mind, louder than ever. The weight of their cruelty presses down on you, like a crushing weight. You try to ignore it, but it feels like it's suffocating you, and you can't seem to escape it. Your hands shake as you grip the edge of the sink, digging your nails into the cold porcelain to ground yourself. The pain helps, but it's only temporary.

Why bother anymore? What's the point? They're right. I'm just a waste of space. They won't miss me if I'm gone.

The thought lingers in your mind, twisting and coiling like a poisonous vine. The idea of disappearing, of just not having to deal with this anymore, feels oddly appealing. The thought of fading away, of not having to face the daily torment, seems like the only way out. Maybe if you were gone, everything would stop. The bullying. The loneliness. The constant feeling that you're the problem.

Maybe if I were gone...

You let the thought simmer, standing there with your hands gripping the sink, your head hanging low. The temptation to just slip away from everything is so strong. But as soon as you start to let it sink in, you feel a sharp pang of guilt.

I can't do that...

But why not? What's stopping you?

Your chest tightens, and your breath catches in your throat. It's hard to breathe. The weight of it all is unbearable, and it's like the only way to escape it is to give in. But a small voice inside you—the tiniest whisper—knows this isn't the answer. Yet, that whisper feels so far away, and the darkness feels so close. You feel like you're sinking, drowning in your own thoughts.

You stare at your reflection again, but it feels like you're looking at someone else. The face in the mirror doesn't belong to you. You don't know who you are anymore.

"Maybe they're right," you whisper to yourself, barely audible. "Maybe I really am just a freak. Just a mess. A burden."

The words hit you like a physical blow, leaving you breathless. It's like everything you've been carrying, all the pain and frustration, is pouring out in this quiet moment. And it hurts more than you can put into words. The reality of your situation is overwhelming.

But you can't cry. Not here. Not now. You've built up walls around yourself, walls so thick that no one can see the cracks. If you let yourself break, everything will crumble. And you can't let that happen.

As you stand there, your grip on the sink tightens, and the weight of everything crashes over you. But then, for a split second, you feel something shift. It's faint, like a whisper in the back of your mind. The tiniest glimmer of something. Maybe you can keep going. Maybe you're stronger than you think.

Just as you're about to turn and leave the bathroom, you hear a soft knock on the door, followed by Yuji's voice, gentle and concerned.

"Y/N? Are you okay in there?"

You freeze, caught off guard. You weren't expecting anyone to notice. You don't want her to see you like this, to see how broken you really are. You can't let anyone in.

But Yuji's voice comes again, a little softer this time. "I'm here for you."

You can't find the words to respond. You don't know what to say. So, instead, you just open the door a little, enough to peer out at her. Your face is blank, your mask firmly in place. You don't want to show her what's really going on inside you.

"I'm fine," you mutter, barely above a whisper, even though it's far from true.

Yuji stands there, her expression soft with concern. She's not buying it, but she doesn't push. She just gives you a small, comforting smile. "I'm here if you need me, okay?"

You nod stiffly, stepping back to leave the bathroom, but her words stick with you. She doesn't push, doesn't demand anything from you. She just wants to be there. And for a moment, you let yourself believe that maybe—just maybe—there's a sliver of hope left. Maybe you're not as alone as you feel.

As you walk out of the bathroom, the thoughts continue to swirl in your head, the weight still heavy on your chest. But for now, the thought that Yuji cares—just that small bit of warmth—keeps you moving. _______

History class. The usual hum of voices and the shuffle of papers are overshadowed by the intense stares that follow you as you walk in. You can feel their eyes on you, like daggers, cold and judging. It's a familiar weight, but today it feels heavier than usual. You just want to shrink into the shadows, to disappear.

Yuji follows you into the classroom, her presence the only comfort you have left. But even she can't seem to change the mood in the room. You head to your seat, keeping your head low, avoiding eye contact with anyone. The whispered insults that you're all too familiar with begin the moment you sit down. "Psycho bitch." "Freak." "Loser." You clench your fists under the desk, trying to breathe through it. You've heard it all before, but somehow, it never gets easier.

Yuji sits next to you, and though she's trying her best to pay attention, you notice the way her eyes keep flicking over to you. You can tell she's worried, her thoughts racing behind her calm exterior.

The teacher begins the lesson, droning on about some historical event that you can't even begin to focus on. It's impossible to concentrate when the noise in your head is so loud, when the looks and whispers are so suffocating. You glance out the corner of your eye, seeing Yuji scribbling something in her notebook. She pauses, her hand hovering over the paper for a second before she leans toward you, her voice barely a whisper.

"You sure you're okay?" she asks quietly, not wanting anyone else to hear. Her concern is palpable, and you can feel it like a weight pressing against you.

You shake your head, eyes still focused on the desk in front of you. "Yeah," you say, trying to sound convincing, but even you know it's not working. "Just tired, that's all."

Yuji doesn't seem convinced. She looks at you for a long moment, her gaze soft but concerned. She opens her mouth to say something, but the teacher's voice cuts through the air, pulling your attention back to the front of the room. You both fall silent, but the tension between you is thick. Yuji doesn't press you further, but you know she's still watching you, still trying to figure out what's going on behind your walls.

The class goes on, but your mind drifts again. You can't help but feel out of place, like you don't belong here, like everyone's watching you just waiting for you to screw up. It's hard to focus, and soon, you find yourself lost in your own thoughts again.

Then, out of nowhere, Yuji leans in closer, her voice soft but unmistakable. "Do you want me to come over again after school?"

The suddenness of her question catches you off guard. You freeze for a second, not expecting her to say that, not expecting her to ask. You glance over at her, and she's looking at you with those eyes, soft but full of care. It's not pity, you realize—it's just concern.

It feels strange to even think about having someone over again, especially when things feel so off, so dark. But at the same time, the idea of having Yuji there, of not being completely alone with your thoughts, feels like something you could use right now. Something that might make it all just a little easier to bear.

You hesitate for a moment, unsure of what to say, but then the words spill out before you can stop them. "Yeah... you can come over again," you say, your voice almost too quiet to hear. But there's a relief in saying it, a weight lifted from your chest just by putting it out into the air.

Yuji's face lights up with a smile, a small but genuine one. It's a small thing, but for a moment, it's enough to make you feel like maybe, just maybe, there's a chance things might not always be this heavy.

"I'd like that," she says softly, before turning her attention back to the lesson, though you can see the way her eyes keep darting back to you, a hint of concern still there.

The rest of the class passes in a blur. The bell rings eventually, signaling the end of the day. You pack up your things slowly, the weight of the day still sitting heavy in your chest. You can feel Yuji's gaze on you as you stand, and for once, you don't mind it.

She waits for you as you both make your way out of the classroom. You're not sure what tomorrow will bring, but for tonight, there's a small, tentative comfort in knowing that maybe—just maybe—things won't feel quite as impossible with someone by your side.

Taglist| @hannahstacos @anonymip

do not steal, copy, or claim my work as your own. all right reserved for nyx-y

[sundeyyy]

𝑊𝐴𝑇𝐶𝐻 𝑌𝑂𝑈𝑅 𝐵𝐴𝐶𝐾 𝑆𝐸𝑅𝐼𝐸𝑆 𝑀𝐴𝑆𝑇𝐸𝑅 𝐿𝐼𝑆𝑇

𝑃𝐴𝐼𝑅𝐼𝑁𝐺: BadBoys!Ateez x Broken!Reader

𝐺𝐸𝑁𝑅𝐸: 18+, Slow Burn, Angst, Drama, Psychological, Dark Romance, Slice of Life, Enemies To Lovers (Who Will It Be?)

𝑊𝐴𝑅𝑁𝐼𝑁𝐺𝑆: Depression, Anxiety, Disordered Eating, Body Dysmorphia, Self-harm, Suicidal Ideation, Bullying, Verbal Abuse, Drug/Alcohol use (Underage), Emotional/Mental Breakdowns, Mental Instability, Toxic Dynamics, Manipulation, Physical Violence, Domestic Violence, Child Abuse, Profanity, Emotional Distress, Public Humiliation, Social Trauma, PTSD

𝑆𝑌𝑁𝑂𝑃𝑆𝐼𝑆: A traumatized girl hiding behind a tough persona, but what happens when that persona starts to fade away—when the pain get to hard to deal with and hide, the past slowly creeps back in, and the wrong people start to notice.

“𝐼 𝑊𝐼𝑆𝐻 𝐼 𝐶𝑂𝑈𝐿𝐷 𝐷𝐼𝑆𝐴𝑃𝑃𝐸𝐴𝑅 𝑆𝑂𝑀𝐸𝑇𝐼𝑀𝐸𝑆.”

“𝐼 𝑊𝑂𝑁'𝑇 𝐿𝐸𝑇 𝑌𝑂𝑈 𝐷𝐼𝑆𝐴𝑃𝑃𝐸𝐴𝑅. 𝑌𝑂𝑈 𝑀𝐸𝐴𝑁 𝑇𝑂𝑂 𝑀𝑈𝐶𝐻 𝑇𝑂 𝑀𝐸.”

𝑊𝐴𝑇𝐶𝐻 𝑌𝑂𝑈 𝐵𝐴𝐶𝐾 𝑆𝐸𝑅𝐼𝐸𝑆 𝑇𝐴𝐺 𝐿𝐼𝑆𝑇: 𝐻𝐸𝑅𝐸

𝑃𝐸𝑅𝑀𝐴𝑁𝐸𝑁𝑇 𝑇𝐴𝐺 𝐿𝐼𝑆𝑇 (𝐹𝑂𝑅 𝐹𝑈𝑇𝑈𝑅𝐸 𝑊𝑂𝑅𝐾𝑆): 𝐻𝐸𝑅𝐸

𝐶𝐻𝐴𝑃𝑇𝐸𝑅𝑆:

𝑰: 𝑊𝐴𝑇𝐶𝐻 𝑌𝑂𝑈𝑅 𝐵𝐴𝐶𝐾, 𝐵𝐼𝑇𝐶𝐻

𝑰𝑰: 𝐺𝑂𝑂𝐷 𝐿𝑈𝐶𝐾, 𝐿𝐼𝑇𝑇𝐿𝐸 𝑂𝑁𝐸

𝑰𝑰𝑰: 𝑁𝐼𝐺𝐻𝑇𝑀𝐴𝑅𝐸𝑆

𝑰𝑽: 𝐼'𝑀 𝑆𝑂𝑅𝑅𝑌 𝑃𝐴𝑅𝑇 1

𝑽: 𝐼'𝑀 𝑆𝑂𝑅𝑅𝑌 𝑃𝐴𝑅𝑇 2

𝑽𝑰: 𝑇𝐻𝐸 𝑃𝐴𝑅𝑇𝑌

𝑽𝑰𝑰: 𝑇𝐻𝐸 𝐴𝐹𝑇𝐸𝑅 𝑃𝐴𝑅𝑇𝑌

𝑽𝑰𝑰𝑰: 𝐼𝑇 𝐻𝐸𝐿𝑃𝑆 𝑇𝐴𝐾𝐸 𝑇𝐻𝐸 𝑃𝐴𝐼𝑁 𝐴𝑊𝐴𝑌

𝑰𝑿: 𝑊𝐻𝑌 𝐷𝑂 𝑌𝑂𝑈 𝐶𝐴𝑅𝐸

𝑿: 𝐴 𝐵𝐼𝐺 𝐻𝐴𝑃𝑃𝑌 𝐹𝑈𝐶𝐾𝐼𝑁𝐺 𝐹𝐴𝑀𝐼𝐿𝑌

𝑿𝑰: 𝐷𝐴𝐷𝐷𝑌 𝐷𝐸𝐴𝑅𝐸𝑆𝑇

𝑿𝑰𝑰: 𝑀𝑂𝑀𝑀𝑌...𝑃𝐿𝐸𝐴𝑆𝐸...𝑊𝐴𝐾𝐸 𝑈𝑃

𝑿𝑰𝑰𝑰: 𝐼𝑇'𝑆 𝐴𝐿𝐿 𝑀𝑌 𝐹𝐴𝑈𝐿𝑇

𝑿𝑽: 𝐼𝑇 𝑊𝐴𝑆 𝑁𝐸𝑉𝐸𝑅 𝑀𝑌 𝐹𝐴𝑈𝐿𝑇

𝑿𝑿: 𝐼 𝐿𝑂𝑉𝐸 𝑌𝑂𝑈

𝐴𝐿𝐿 𝑅𝐼𝐺𝐻𝑇𝑆 𝑅𝐸𝑆𝐸𝑅𝑉𝐸𝐷 𝐹𝑂𝑅 𝑁𝑂𝐼𝑅𝐸-𝑋𝑋. 𝐷𝑂 𝑁𝑂𝑇 𝑆𝑇𝐸𝐴𝐿, 𝐶𝑂𝑃𝑌, 𝑂𝑅 𝐶𝐿𝐴𝐼𝑀 𝑀𝑌 𝑊𝑂𝑅𝐾 𝐴𝑆 𝑌𝑂𝑈𝑅 𝑂𝑊𝑁.

[sundeyyy]

—WATCH YOUR BACK

III: NIGHTMARES

𝑃𝐴𝐼𝑅𝐼𝑁𝐺: BadBoys!Ateez x Broken!Reader

𝑊𝐶: 10k

𝑆𝑌𝑁𝑂𝑃𝑆𝐼𝑆: A stolen kiss. A spark in the dark. Btu when you're always the villain, even the smallest moment of warmth can set the world against you.

𝑊𝐴𝑅𝑁𝐼𝑁𝐺𝑆: Bullying, Physical violence, Verbal abuse/name-calling, Profanity, Mentions of self-harm & self-hate, isolation and social rejection, Cyber-bullying.

𝐷𝐼𝑆𝐶𝐿𝐴𝐼𝑀𝐸𝑅: This series is not a representation of the idols as individuals and is to not be taken seriously. If you’re uncomfortable with the content in the series or on my page, then feel free to click off at any moment.

———————————————————————————————

Your mother advised you to hide in your closet; the sound of smashing, hammering, and your mother's sobs makes you want to dash outside and ask a neighbor for help.

You listened to your father—violent, drunk, and angry as always. After every altercation, you heard your mother's sobs and screams as your father yelled in frustration.

You were trembling in fear, burying your face between your knees, when you suddenly realized the noises had stopped.

This could only mean one thing: he was coming for you.

You clenched your knees in prayer, hoping your father wouldn't discover you.

Then... you heard footsteps entering your room, you knew your prayers had failed.

Your father yanked the closet door open, his furious face and bloodshot eyes greeting you.

He pulled you out by your hair and flung you to the ground, where you struck your head against the wooden bed frame.

You began to whimper, touching your head in pain.

When you removed your hand, a cold crimson liquid covered half your tiny palm and dripped down your face, visible in the reflection of a now-tilted mirror.

The frightening scene was interrupted by another sharp pain in your stomach as your father started kicking you while shouting cruel words.

"You stupid little bitch, I hate you! You ruined my fucking life; I wish you were fucking dead!" your father yelled.

You sobbed not only from the physical pain but also from his devastating remarks.

All you wanted was for him to accept you as his daughter and understand you meant no harm.

He had wanted a son, not a daughter.

He was angry that you existed instead of a boy and that your mother refused to have another child to replace you.

Your mother cherished you too much to risk losing someone so valuable to her.

She prayed your father wouldn't treat you cruelly and wanted him to understand that no woman, including herself, could control a baby's gender during pregnancy.

She refused to let him hurt you anymore; she refused to let him continue hurting her.

Your vision blurred, and your father's rage-filled screams became almost unrecognizable.

You drifted in and out of consciousness, only coming to it when he shouted more hurtful words.

"No one fucking loves you, everyone hates you, your mother hates you, and no one will ever care for you—you're the reason your mother and everyone else hate you!"

You could do nothing but lie motionless on your bedroom floor, absorbing his verbal assault.

"Anyone who says they love you is a liar and a damn fool. You don't deserve to be loved; you aren't meant to be loved, you—" Your consciousness continued to fade, but the heartbreaking words still reached you as your father shouted.

Soon you heard your mother sobbing, sirens in the distance, and heavy footsteps heading upstairs as your father's voice faded.

As police led him away, you heard shouting and your mother weeping while yelling at him.

The yelling subsided as someone carried you downstairs. Through the haze, you felt someone holding you in their arms while your mother sobbed, her voice shaking.

Your father's words echoed in your mind, the loudest being: no one cares for you, your mother despises you, everyone despises you, and you are the reason why. Then everything turned dark.

🥀

You wake up in a cold sweat... again.

The same nightmare. The same goddamn nightmare that never leaves you alone. It haunts you, night after night, stealing whatever chance you had at rest. A good night's sleep? Rare. Almost impossible.

Your hair clings to your forehead, soaked through with sweat. Your clothes stick to your skin like glue, damp and suffocating. You gasp for air like you've just finished running a marathon, chest heaving, lungs barely keeping up.

You clutch at your chest with shaking hands, trying to steady your breathing—trying to convince yourself that you're here, in your room, and not back there. But the shaking doesn't stop. Your hands tremble. Your whole body trembles.

Tears slide down your cheeks before you even realize you're crying. Those memories—the ones you try to lock away—slam against the walls of your mind, screaming to be remembered. The pain, the fear, the helplessness.

No matter how hard you try to forget... it's always there.

You hate it. God, you hate it.

But the worst part? Deep down, you know the truth: the nightmares, the flashbacks... they're never going away.

You turn to your alarm clock on the nightstand. 1:45 a.m.

Damn.

Even less sleep than the night before.

There's no way in hell you're going back to sleep after that. Not with your skin drenched in sweat and your heart still pounding out of your chest. Maybe a shower will help. Or a bath.

Maybe.

Maybe not.

🥀

You just arrived at school, completely and utterly exhausted.

Your bloodshot eyes hid beneath your heavy, drooping lids. The dark circles under your eyes—ones you usually concealed with makeup—were now fully exposed for the world to see. Your shoulders slumped as you trudged through the hallway, heading toward the one person you actually wanted to see: Yuji.

Eyes followed you, as usual. Burning with hate. Drenched in disgust. But you were used to it. That kind of attention was nothing new.

You finally spotted Yuji standing by her locker, scrolling through her phone. The second she noticed you approaching, she stuffed the phone in her pocket and turned toward you with a soft smile. But as you got closer, that smile quickly faded. Her eyes landed on your face—on the bruises, the swelling, the busted lip—and her expression dropped.

"H-Hey, girlie... how you feelin'?" she asked gently, trying to keep her voice light.

"Horrible," you muttered, your tone dry and pained. "My fucking eye hurts. The painkillers I'm taking aren't doing their fucking job, and I'm getting real irritated." You raised a hand to your eye and winced.

"Aww, Y/N, that's—"

She didn't get to finish.

Her eyes suddenly shifted behind you, widening in fear.

You immediately noticed. "What is it? Do I have something on my face—y'know, aside from the obvious?"

"They're here," she whispered shakily. "And they're looking right at you."

You didn't even have to turn around to know who she meant.

"Y/N! We're here!" Wooyoung sang behind you, his voice gratingly cheerful.

You quickly turned to Yuji. "Go to class. Now."

She hesitated, not wanting to leave you, but one look into your eyes told her you weren't asking—this was about keeping her safe. She gave a small nod and hurried off.

As you watched her disappear, a throat cleared behind you.

"What do you want?" you groaned, turning around to face them.

"Happy to see us, hm?" Wooyoung asked with a smirk, his arms crossed.

"No. Not really. Your face annoys me," you snapped. "So, no. I'm not happy to see you."

"Oof, that wasn't very nice," he pouted mockingly. But that glint in his eyes? Yeah... he wasn't hurt. He was amused.

"Nice bruises, baby," Mingi smirked, leaning lazily against your locker.

"First of all, don't call me baby. I don't like you. Second of all, fuck you," you shot back.

"Aw, someone's got a little attitude this morning," Yeosang teased from the side.

You sighed heavily and pinched the bridge of your nose. "Look, I don't have time for your bullshit today."

"Oh? And why's that?" Wooyoung grinned, leaning in.

Before you could answer, the warning bell rang through the hallway.

Saved by the bell.

"Oh look at that," you said, sarcasm dripping from your voice. "Now get out of my way."

You pushed past both Mingi and Wooyoung without looking back. You could feel their eyes burning into your back as you walked away.

"Damn," Mingi muttered, biting his lip as he watched you disappear down the hall.

"Mingi, please," Yeosang groaned. "You damn near kept me up all night talking about her. Don't start again."

"Fine, I won't," Mingi huffed dramatically.

"Thank you," Yeosang muttered.

"But can I just say that she is hot as fu—"

"God, I'm blocking you," Yeosang cut him off with another groan, earning a round of laughter from the group.

"Hyung, you're always mean to me," Mingi pouted. "No one else in this group gets bullied the way I do—"

"Because you're annoying," Yeosang interrupted again, deadpan.

The others burst into laughter, and Seonghwa clapped his hands. "Alright, come on. Let's go to class."

"Yunho, I swear I get mistreated more than anyone," Mingi rambled on as Yunho casually grabbed his arm to drag him along.

"I believe you, Mingki," Yunho chuckled.

"I'm serious, hyung!"

"Sure you are," San said with a smirk, glancing back at him.

"You'll see! You'll all see!" Mingi raised his fist in dramatic defiance as the others laughed all the way down the hall.

🥀

It's gym class now.

You and Yuji are the last ones to leave the locker room after changing into your gym clothes. You avoid looking at yourself too long in the mirror while changing, pulling your sleeves down and making sure your shorts are just long enough to hide the scars. You always do. You have to.

"Hey, babes. You okay?" Yuji asks, her hand landing gently on your shoulder. "You're kinda quiet today."

"Yeah," you say automatically. "Just... thinking about some stuff."

But you're not thinking. You don't even feel like your brain is on. You're empty. Completely. There's nothing going on in your head. No thoughts, no words. Just this dull, aching silence inside you. You've felt this way for so long that you don't remember what it feels like not to. And you're sure you never will.

You follow Yuji to the bleachers, climbing to the very top. She keeps glancing at you, trying not to make it obvious, but you catch her doing it from the corner of your eye. Her eyes shift away quickly when the gym doors open and the sound of squealing fills the air. You don't even need to look to know it's them.

Ateez.

"Y/n," Yuji whispers nervously. "I forgot to tell you... Ateez is in our gym class."

You hum in response. That's all you can give her. You don't care. Or maybe you care too much and you just don't want to let it show.

"Oh, Y/n," Wooyoung sings your name mockingly.

You ignore him. But the rest of the class doesn't. Heads turn. Eyes lock onto you. Disgusted looks. Quiet giggles. People whispering, and you don't even need to hear the words to know what they're saying. Yuji lowers her head like she's ashamed just to be sitting next to you.

"Yuji," you say flatly.

"Yeah? What's wrong?" she asks, still not looking up.

"Nothing. Go sit somewhere else."

Her head turns slightly. "What? But why?"

"Just. Go," you snap, your tone sharp now.

She looks at you, confused and hurt, but before she can argue again, you groan and get up. "Fuck it, I'll move."

You stomp to the other side of the bleachers, away from everyone—including her. But not from them.

"Wassup, mind if we sit here?"

You look up. Ateez is standing in front of you. Of course.

"Yes, I do—" you start, but Yeosang is already sitting down beside you.

"We don't care if you do or not," he says coldly. "We were gonna sit here anyway."

You're surrounded. Trapped. Even if you wanted to get away, you couldn't. You'd never make it far.

"So, how's your day going, Y/n?" Hongjoong smiles, but his eyes don't match his lips.

You glance at him, then at the others. They're all smiling the same. Too bright. Too fake. And all their eyes hold the same darkness.

"What do you want?" you mutter, ignoring his question.

"I asked you something first," he says, his smile fading into something far colder. "Answer me."

"No. Fuck you."

Before he can react, your gym teacher's voice cuts through the tension. "Okay, class. Today, we're just going outside for the rest of the period."

Groans fill the room.

You roll your eyes, barely holding in how done you are. You don't have the energy to move, let alone participate in anything.

"Oh relax, you don't have to do anything if you don't want to," she adds. "I just want you to get some sunlight."

Thank god.

She unlocks the storage closet and tells everyone they can grab something if they want to do anything. A few students head over, including some girls who go straight to Yuji.

They talk to her for a bit before she stands up and walks with them toward the storage closet. One of them pulls out a long jump rope.

You finally stand up too, ready to follow everyone outside.

But you don't even make it two steps down the bleachers.

A pair of hands shoves you from behind. Hard.

You stumble, unable to catch the railings in time. Your body crashes down the metal steps. And your face slams against the gym floor.

Laughter.

First Ateez. Then everyone else.

Your ears ring. Your vision blurs. You feel warm liquid pouring down your face.

Footsteps rush toward you. "Oh my god, Y/n, are you okay?" That voice. Yuji.

She's the only one who would ever run to help you.

She grabs your hand and tries to pull you up, but the moment you're on your feet and she reaches for your face—you snap.

You shove her. Hard.

She hits the floor with a yelp.

"Don't fucking touch me!" you scream, voice shaking.

Everyone stares at you now.

Even Ateez.

Even Yuji—who's still on the ground, staring up at you with wide, teary eyes.

"Y/n..." she whispers your name like it hurts her to say it. Like it's something fragile and breaking in her mouth.

A group of girls rush to her side. "What the hell is wrong with you?!" one of them barks.

"You're fucking crazy," another spits as they help Yuji up.

You watch them all surround her. Comfort her. Protect her.

You glance back at the bleachers. Ateez is smirking at you. Like they won.

Maybe they did.

You pull your hood over your head, wipe your nose with your sleeve, and walk out of the gym, letting the blood smear across your face. You don't care.

You wander down the hallway, numb again.

You pass the bathroom without thinking. You stop, realize, and start to turn around—only to see the classroom where you smashed San in the head with a stapler.

You sigh.

Too tired to care.

You walk inside and shut the door behind you, disappearing for the rest of the day.

You stepped into the dim, empty classroom, the soft click of the door closing behind you echoing in the stillness. Without thinking, you slid your back down the door until you hit the floor, knees pulled close to your chest. You stayed like that for a moment, trying to catch your breath—trying not to fall apart.

Your eyes wandered around the room, taking in the quiet. That's when you noticed a box of tissues sitting on the teacher's desk. Slowly, you got up, your body aching from exhaustion, and walked over to grab it.

That's when you saw it.

Tucked inside the little plastic supplies holder on the edge of the desk—just sitting there, like it was waiting for you—was a lighter.

You froze. Your eyes locked onto it, and for a moment, your mind went blank. Then, slowly, your hand reached for it. It was almost involuntary, like muscle memory. Like you already knew what you were going to do.

Now holding both the lighter and the tissue box, you moved to the far corner of the classroom—away from the windows, away from the door—and sank down onto the cold floor. You grabbed a few tissues, pulled out your phone, turned on the camera, and began wiping the dried blood from your face. Quiet. Mechanical. Like this was just another thing you had to do to get through the day.

Once you were done, you dropped the bloodied tissues to the side and just... stared at the lighter in your hand.

And then the thoughts came rushing in.

Those same thoughts you'd battled for years. The ones that came crawling in late at night, whispering that you were worthless. That no one cared. That you were nothing but a burden. A problem. A mistake.

You tried to shake them. You really did.

But they always came back.

You reached down and pulled your pants down just far enough to reveal the truth you'd been hiding—the patchwork of burns along your thighs. Some fresh. Some faded. All of them self-inflicted. Your silent proof that the world's hatred had carved itself into your skin.

You stared down at them, feeling the ache rise in your chest.

You deserved this. That's what you told yourself.

You deserved every bit of pain. Every bruise. Every hateful comment. Every time someone looked at you like you didn't matter.

Because maybe you didn't.

Everything's your fault.

You ruin everything.

You make everyone's life miserable.

You're a fuck-up.

You're the problem.

And the worst part is, you believed it.

You gripped the lighter tighter, your palm slick with sweat, but your hand didn't tremble. It never trembled when it came to hurting yourself. Pain was familiar—almost comforting. It made sense in a world that didn't.

The tissue box sat beside you, a pathetic attempt at comfort. You stared at it, then at your thighs—already marred with bruises from gym, from them. The fresh memories made your chest tighten, but the bruises weren't enough. Not today.

Your fingers flicked the wheel of the lighter.

Click. Click.

A small flame danced to life, casting an orange glow across your skin. You watched it flicker, hypnotized. For a second, your reflection caught in the classroom window—a girl who looked like you but felt like a stranger. Eyes empty. Lips bitten raw. Hollow and tired and far too gone for seventeen.

You moved the flame closer.

I deserve this.

Your breath caught as the heat neared your skin. That twisted voice in your head—your father's voice—whispered cruelly.

"No one will ever love someone like you."

Yuji's voice followed, soft and trembling.

"You're not alone. You have me."

You squeezed your eyes shut. Your hand faltered.

But then... you pressed the flame to your thigh.

A gasp escaped your throat as pain bloomed across your skin—sharp, searing, real. A sob followed. Then another. And another. You crumpled forward, curling in on yourself, tears spilling down your cheeks. Not because of the burn. But because you hated that it helped.

You were tired of pretending you were okay. Tired of the mask. Tired of being hated—for things that weren't your fault. For things you could never fix.

The lighter dropped from your hand, landing with a dull thud.

Silence. Just your breath. Shaky. Broken.

🥀

The classroom stayed silent long after the second period bell rang. Then third. Then lunch. But you didn't move. You sat in the farthest corner of the room, hood up, face buried in your arms, legs pulled close to your chest. Your oversized hoodie swallowed your frame, and your black jeans—your usual armor—clung damply to your legs from sitting too long.

No one noticed you hadn't shown up to your classes.

No one came to check.

And honestly, you didn't expect them to.

Outside, the sky turned a deep, moody gray. Rain began to fall in waves, tapping softly against the windows. It was the only sound keeping you company. The kind of rain that seemed to soak into your bones just from hearing it.

While the school buzzed with whispers and tension, you stayed hidden.

Your name was on everyone's tongue. Your face was on their screens. And the scene in gym—the fight, the blood, the way you were dragged out and left on the floor like garbage—was replayed and re-posted on every platform by now.

"She thinks she's tough? ATEEZ humbled her real quick." "Someone should finish the job." "Crazy bitch finally got what was coming to her." "Bet she's off somewhere crying." "Should've ended it already."

Your name, your pain—it was just content now.

When the final bell rang, the halls exploded with noise. Students rushed to leave, laughing, joking, pretending they weren't all part of the same cruel ecosystem. But you slipped out the side door like a ghost. Unseen. Unheard.

The rain had picked up.

You stepped out into it without hesitation. Hood up. Hands shoved into the sleeves of your hoodie. You didn't care that your clothes were getting soaked. You didn't care that your shoes were squishing with every step.

You didn't care.

But your phone wouldn't shut up.

You ignored the buzzing until it became impossible. With a sigh, you pulled it out.

Not Yuji.

Unknown Numbers.

Then more.

And more.

Your stomach twisted, but your face stayed blank.

The messages poured in:

"Kill yourself." "Bitch." "You deserve every bruise you got." "Even your mom must be ashamed of you." "Why are you even still alive?"

You locked the screen.

Tried again.

Locked it again.

The notifications wouldn't stop.

You told yourself it didn't matter. That this was nothing new. That you'd been through worse.

And maybe that was true.

But somehow... it still hurt.

And you didn't know why.

The ache sat in your chest like a weight. Quiet. Heavy.

By the time you reached your front door, your hoodie clung to your body, soaked through. Rain streamed down your face like tears you refused to shed. You pushed the door open, stepping inside without a word.

Warm air hit your skin. But it didn't help. You still felt cold.

"Y/N?"

Your mom's voice drifted from the kitchen. She was seated at the island, papers and her laptop spread in front of her. She looked up when you came in—and froze.

You didn't look at her. You started to head to your room.

"Oh my god, honey—you're drenched—" She jumped up and grabbed the throw blanket from the couch.

"Don't," you warned.

But she didn't stop. She stepped forward and tried to wrap it around you.

"I said don't fucking touch me!" you snapped, shoving her backward hard enough to make her stumble.

"Y/N—" Her voice cracked as she steadied herself. "Why are you acting like this?"

You turned to face her, dripping, shaking, jaw clenched.

"Stop pretending like you care."

She blinked, stunned. "What...? What are you talking about?"

"You don't give a damn," you spat, voice low and shaking. "You just feel guilty. You just want to play 'loving mom' to feel better about yourself."

"That's not true," she whispered, stepping closer. "Y/N, I love—"

"Then stop. Just stop. I don't want it. I don't need it. Worry about yourself for once and stop trying to fix me like I'm some broken toy."

She stared at you, stunned—but then her eyes drifted over your face.

The swelling around your left eye. The busted lip. The faint, healing cut on your cheek. She gasped softly.

"Who did this to you?" Her voice hardened. "Y/N—what happened?"

Your hands clenched inside your sleeves. You took a step back.

"Was it someone from school? Did someone hurt you?"

Your silence said enough.

"Please—tell me. I need to know—"

"I SAID DON'T!" you screamed, voice raw.

She flinched, but her eyes stayed locked on you—wide, full of something you couldn't read. Fear? Grief? Guilt?

It didn't matter.

"I'm fine," you hissed. "I'm always fine."

You turned away and stormed down the hall, each step leaving muddy, soaked footprints on the hardwood.

You slammed your bedroom door shut, locked it, and dropped your phone to the floor. It buzzed again. And again.

You pulled off your hoodie with shaking hands and threw it aside. You sat on your bed, staring blankly ahead.

The burn on your thigh throbbed under your jeans.

The bruises on your arms, hidden beneath your sleeves, ached dully.

But the ache in your chest—that was the worst of all.

The silence in your room felt heavier than before.

Your hoodie sat in a crumpled, wet mess on the floor. Your jeans clung uncomfortably to your legs, cold and suffocating. You stripped them off, moving like your body didn't belong to you, until you stood alone in the dim light of the bathroom.

The mirror was fogged slightly from the humidity, but you didn't wipe it.

You stared.

Bra. Underwear. Nothing else.

You didn't even recognize the person looking back at you.

Your eyes were dark and swollen, one nearly shut from the blow that landed hardest in gym. Your busted lip had crusted over in dried blood. The cut on your cheek was shallow but jagged—still red.

And then there were the bruises. Your ribs. Your stomach. Your hips.

Purples and blues and sickly yellows, scattered like fingerprints.

You slowly pushed your damp hair back from your face and stepped closer to the mirror.

Your eyes locked onto your own—and you hated what you saw.

The deadness. The emptiness.

You hated the slope of your shoulders. The softness of your stomach. The scars you knew were hidden just beneath the edge of your underwear, the burn marks on your thighs from earlier. The faint stretch marks on your hips. The way your chest looked too small, too awkward, like nothing about you fit together the way it was supposed to.

You turned slightly, tracing a line over your side where a bruise bloomed deep.

Disgusting.

Your arms hung at your sides, thin and pale. The sleeves you always wore weren't just for the cold—they were shields.

Scars. Old. Faded. Angry.

Pathetic.

You dropped your gaze, your throat tightening.

You didn't cry.

You didn't have it in you.

You just... stood there, surrounded by yourself, drowning in silence.

No wonder they all hate you.

No wonder Yuji left.

That last thought hit harder than you wanted it to.

You picked up your phone from the bathroom counter. The lock screen was still lit with messages you refused to read. But you ignored them. Instead, your thumb hovered over Yuji's name for a second before you forced yourself to open the chat.

you: i'm sorry for today. i didn't mean to snap at you. you: i don't know what I was thinking. you: please don't hate me. you: i really didn't mean to hurt you.

You stared at the screen.

No typing bubble. No read receipts. No reply.

You locked your phone and set it face-down on the sink.

Then the silence returned.

But now it felt colder.

Deeper.

Something inside you cracked, quietly—but completely.

Your hands moved without thought.

You opened the bathroom drawer, pushed past the toothpaste and lotion, until you found the one thing you kept hidden—taped to the back of the drawer, out of reach.

The small razor blade.

You stared at it for a moment, heart hammering, breathing shallow.

You told yourself it would make things quieter. That it would help.

You rolled up your sleeve.

There were already marks there—old reminders. But tonight, you added new ones.

One.

Two.

Three.

They weren't deep. You didn't want to die.

Not really.

You just didn't want to feel anymore.

And as the blood bubbled up and your skin burned, your brain finally quieted.

Everything else faded.

You sat on the cold tile floor, legs pulled close, back against the bathroom wall.

Alone. Again.

Like always.

🥀

YUJI's POV

Yuji stared at her phone screen, sitting on her bed with her knees pulled up to her chest. Her room was quiet except for the low hum of her fan, but her phone was vibrating nonstop—messages flooding in one after the other.

"Are you okay?!" "Did she hit you??" "Why were you even hanging out with her anyway?" "She's fucking insane." "You know what kind of person she is, right?" "Can't believe you sat with her like she was normal."

Yuji's hands clenched around her phone.

It wasn't just texts. There were Instagram stories going around too. Blurry videos from gym. Screenshots of you walking out of class after getting beat up yesterday. People reposting your picture and writing cruel captions under it.

They hated you.

And they didn't even try to hide it.

Yuji bit her lip, heart aching—not for herself, but for you.

She opened your message again. She read it twice. Three times.

"i'm sorry for today. i didn't mean to snap at you. i don't know what I was thinking . please don't hate me. i really didn't mean to hurt you."

Yuji could see the pain in every word. The desperation behind it. The way you reached out—even after all you'd been through today.

She swallowed hard and typed slowly, carefully:

yuji: i don't hate you. yuji: i'm not mad either. i know something's going on, something deeper. yuji: it's okay if you're not ready to talk about it. yuji: but i'm here, Y/N. i really am. yuji: you're not alone, even if it feels like it.

She stared at the message, thumb hovering over "send."

Then she hit it.

And hoped—really hoped—that you would still be there to read it.

🥀

YOUR MOM's POV

The kitchen was dark now.

Your mom sat at the island, still wearing her work clothes, her untouched tea gone cold in front of her. Her chest felt heavy. Her heart ached in a way she couldn't put into words.

She'd watched her daughter come home soaked in rain, lips bleeding, eyes bruised.

She tried to help. But her daughter shoved her away.

Again.

It wasn't the shove that hurt the most—it was the look in your eyes.

Like you didn't want to be saved.

Like you didn't believe you could be.

Tears slipped silently down her cheeks as she sat there, helpless. The pain of the past—her ex-husband's violence, the endless judgment from their family—twisted in her chest like a knife.

She wanted to scream.

She just wanted her baby back.

Her phone rang.

She glanced at the screen.

Mom

Her hands trembled as she picked it up.

"Hello?" her voice cracked slightly.

"You sound like shit," her mother said flatly. "What now?"

Y/N's mom took a deep breath. "It's Y/N. She's... not okay. I think she's hurting herself again. I tried talking to her but she—she just pushes me away. She doesn't even look me in the eye anymore."

A short silence.

Then came the reply, cold and sharp: "Then maybe it's time to stop trying."

Her stomach dropped.

"What?"

"She's a lost cause, honey. You know it. That girl has been nothing but a problem since the moment you took her side over your husband's. She ruined this family. She ruined you."

"That's not true." Her voice shook. "She's my daughter. She's in pain."

"She's a burden," her mother snapped. "You're exhausting yourself over someone who'll never be normal. Get rid of her before she drags you down even further."

Y/N's mom went completely silent. Her lips parted but no sound came out.

Tears blurred her vision again.

"She's not a burden," she whispered. "She's my little girl."

"Well," her mother said coldly, "don't come crying to me when she does something stupid."

Click.

The line went dead.

Y/N's mom slowly lowered the phone, staring blankly at the countertop as her shoulders shook.

She didn't know what to do.

She didn't know how to help you anymore.

She was alone.

But one thing she did know, as her tears spilled freely now—was that she wasn't going to give up.

Not on her daughter.

Never.

🥀

YOUR POV

You haven't moved from your bed in what feels like hours. Your phone screen lights the dark room in soft blue—Yuji's reply still open.

yuji: you're not alone, even if it feels like it.

You stare at it like it's a lie. Like it wasn't meant for you.

You thought it would help. That maybe her words would make the ache in your chest loosen just a little. That maybe you'd finally feel understood.

But it only makes everything worse.

The tightness in your chest gets heavier. Thicker. Like someone's holding your heart in their fist and squeezing.

You don't deserve this. Not her kindness. Not her forgiveness. Not her softness after everything.

You don't deserve anyone.

Your body feels like it's moving on its own as you push yourself up and walk across the room.

Back into the bathroom.

Again.

You don't even bother flipping on the light this time. The faint hallway glow is enough to catch your reflection in the mirror as you close the door behind you.

You freeze.

There you are.

You.

Your bruised, bloodied, broken self.

And you hate it.

"You're disgusting," you whisper.

Your voice doesn't even sound like yours anymore. It's sharper. Cruel.

"You ruin everything."

You step closer to the mirror, watching your breath fog up the glass. Watching the mess of a girl staring back at you.

"You made your mom miserable. You scared Yuji. Everyone hates you."

You wipe the fog away with the sleeve of your hoodie.

The bruises. The cut on your lip. The bags under your eyes.

You look like a monster.

And worse—you feel like one.

"You should've just shut up," you hiss at yourself. "Should've kept your head down. Should've never been born."

You rip off your hoodie, then your long sleeve t-shirt. Your hands go to the sleeves of the long undershirt you wore to bed every night—even when it's hot—rolling them up to your elbows.

You never do this often. You only burn yourself when things get to hard, which is every goddamn day.

But tonight... you don't care.

Your arms are pale. Scarred. Faint lines from old wounds long healed. But still there. Like a graveyard no one talks about.

You open the drawer under the sink. Your hand doesn't even tremble as you pull it out again.

The razor.

It feels too familiar in your hand.

You sit on the cold tile floor, knees tucked in close to your chest, heart pounding like a drum in your ears.

You press the blade to your skin.

The first cut stings. Sharp. Angry.

The second comes faster.

The third even faster than that.

Each slice carves out a word you've swallowed for too long.

"Stupid." "Worthless." "Ugly." "Broken." “Bitch.” "Burden."

You watch the blood bead up, bright against your skin. It trails in shaky lines, some longer than others. Some deeper.

You don't cry. You never cry.

But you want to scream.

You lean back against the bathtub, chest rising and falling in shallow gasps. The room feels smaller now. Quieter.

Your phone buzzes on the counter.

You don't check it.

You can't.

Because some part of you is scared.

Scared that Yuji might still care... and that you'll never be able to live with yourself if she does.

🥀

Monday morning crept in like a shadow. You barely noticed the sunrise seeping through the crack in your blinds—it didn't warm you, didn't wake you gently. It just reminded you that another day had started... and that meant facing everything you spent the weekend avoiding.

You peeled yourself out of bed like your body weighed a thousand pounds. Every joint ached with exhaustion, even though you'd done nothing but sleep. Or maybe that's exactly why.

Your room was silent except for your loud sighs as you shuffled to the bathroom. You stared at your reflection—your eyes were dull, sunken. The bruises on your face had faded a little, but they were still there, reminders of the chaos no one cared to ask about. You pressed your fingers to your lips where the skin was still tender. Your stomach growled, a weak, distant sound—ignored again.

You showered quickly. The hot water stung against old burns and healing skin, but you didn't flinch. You were used to it. Maybe you even liked the pain. It was something real. Something honest.

Back in your room, you threw on your usual hoodie and jeans. Nothing that would show too much. Nothing that invited questions. You sat at the edge of your bed for a moment, staring at the floor, clutching your phone in your hand but not doing anything with it.

Just another day of pretending.

Just another day of being the version of yourself everyone expects you to be.

You stood up, grabbed your bag, and headed out the door—shoulders heavy, heart hollow, and stomach still empty.

🥀

The silence in the car was suffocating.

You sat in the passenger seat, head leaning against the window, watching the world blur by—empty streets, cold buildings, people living lives you couldn't relate to. Your breath fogged the glass a little, but you didn't move.

Your mom glanced at you a few times, her grip on the steering wheel tightening each time like she wanted to say something. You could feel it—her words were right there, stuck in her throat, trying to find the right way out. But she didn't speak.

Maybe she was afraid you'd snap again. Maybe she was tired of walking on eggshells around her own daughter. You wouldn't blame her.

You could sense her guilt. The way her jaw clenched. The way she opened her mouth slightly, only to close it again. She didn't want to upset you—not this early, not when you already looked like you hadn't slept in days.

You stayed quiet, just like she did. Not because you didn't have anything to say... but because what was the point? Talking didn't change anything. It never did.

Your eyes stayed glued to the window, expression unreadable, face calm... but inside, you were screaming.

And she knew it. But still, the car remained silent.

Just like always.

🥀

The car came to a slow stop in front of the school. You didn't wait for it to fully park before popping the door open.

"Thanks," you muttered flatly, not bothering to glance at your mom as you stepped out and slammed the door shut behind you. You could feel her eyes lingering on you through the window, hoping for something—anything—but you just adjusted your backpack, shoved your hands into your pockets, and walked off like nothing mattered.

Because it didn't. Not the bruises. Not the stares. Not the whispers already beginning to ripple through the courtyard like poison.

Your steps were steady. Chin high. Shoulders back. Confident. Defiant. Even if your body ached and your head still felt heavy, none of that showed on your face. You wouldn't give them the satisfaction.

Laughter echoed to your left. Fingers pointed. Some students even had their phones out like they were waiting for you to crack again—maybe throw another tray, scream, bleed, cry.

But you didn't flinch. You didn't shrink.

They could look all they wanted. They could laugh, whisper, mock, and wait for you to fall apart—but today, you wouldn't give them that.

Your eyes scanned the hallway, dodging all the glares, all the fake sympathy and smirks, until you saw her.

Yuji.

She stood by her locker, arms crossed loosely, her eyes flicking around like she was searching for something—or someone. You.

A group of girls surrounded her, bombarding her with questions you could practically hear from across the hallway.

"Why did she even throw food at them?" "Did they beat her up that bad?" "Why were they even after her?" "Are you still gonna be friends with that psycho after that what she did to you?"

Yuji wasn't answering. Wasn't even really listening. She looked... distracted. Restless. And then her eyes found you.

And just like that, her face lit up.

She bolted through the group of girls like they weren't even there, arms wide before crashing into you with a hug so tight it knocked the breath out of you. You stumbled back slightly but didn't push her away.

Your arms wrapped around her instinctively.

Whispers flared behind her. You could hear them.

"Is she serious right now?" "After all that?" "She's hugging her?"

You didn't care.

Let them whisper. Let them stare. Let them be confused.

Because Yuji was here. And that's all that mattered.

You held her for a second longer than you meant to. Maybe because it was comforting. Maybe because it was the first time since Friday you felt... human again.

When Yuji finally pulled back, her eyes were glossy—but her smile? Soft. Genuine. The kind of smile that didn't ask questions, didn't expect anything, didn't need you to be okay. It was just there. For you.

"I missed you," she whispered, almost like she was scared saying it out loud would break the moment.

You raised an eyebrow. "Even after I pushed you in front of everyone?"

She scoffed, wiping at her eyes quickly before shaking her head. "Yeah. Even after that. You think I'd ditch you that easy?"

You snorted, glancing around at the crowd still watching. "Apparently everyone else thought you would."

"Yeah, well... I'm not everyone else." She reached up and gently tapped your bruised cheek with the tip of her finger. "You look like shit, by the way."

You cracked a grin. "Thanks. I was going for 'walking disaster.' Think I nailed it."

Yuji laughed, the sound light and warm despite the cold air around you both. "Ten outta ten. No notes."

Behind her, the girls she'd just left were still whispering, exchanging looks like they couldn't wrap their heads around what they were seeing.

You glanced past Yuji and locked eyes with one of them. The girl flinched when you smirked.

"Let 'em stare," you muttered under your breath. "Let 'em choke on it."

Yuji heard you. And for a second, her smile dimmed—just a little. Her eyes scanned your face carefully, the bruises, the bags under your eyes, the cracks in your voice you were pretending weren't there.

"Well, did you at least eat?"

You looked away. "Didn't feel like it."

"Y/N..."

"Don't. Not here. I don't feel like hearing it from you, too."

She didn't argue. Didn't push. Just sighed and walked beside you as the two of you started making your way toward first period.

The crowd slowly faded behind you, but you could still feel their eyes stabbing into your back.

Let them.

You had Yuji. And for now, that was enough.

You and Yuji walked side by side through the crowded hallways, the noise of students talking, laughing, and lockers slamming blending into a dull hum in the background. The two of you didn't say much, but the silence was comfortable—for once, not heavy with guilt or tension.

Yuji kept glancing at you every few steps, like she was still trying to make sure you were really here and not about to vanish into the crowd again. You were too busy looking ahead, trying to keep your head held high even though you felt like every eye in the school was pinned to your back. Maybe they were.

"So uh... do you know where we're going?" Yuji finally whispered, leaning a little closer.

"Nope," you muttered back, a slight smirk tugging at your lips. "I zoned out like three hallways ago."

Yuji let out a quiet laugh. "Same. We passed the art wing twice, I think."

You were about to joke about happened on Friday when the air in the hallway shifted. The sounds dulled. You didn't even need to turn your head to know what—or who—was coming.

There they were. ATEEZ. All eight of them.

Hongjoong was in front, walking with that same cocky confidence he always carried—hands in his pockets, head tilted just enough to look down at anyone who dared cross him. Seonghwa trailed a step behind him, expression unreadable, arms crossed. San and Wooyoung were on either side, both laughing about something you didn't care enough to catch, though the way Wooyoung's eyes snapped to yours made your stomach twist. Jongho and Yunho were talking quietly at the back, and Mingi and Yeosang were somewhere in the middle, but they all had one thing in common:

They were looking at you.

And Yuji.

All at once, the hallway seemed smaller—like the two of you were standing still while they filled up every inch of space with nothing but presence.

Yuji's grip on her books tightened, but she didn't step away from you. You didn't move either. Not this time.

"Oh look," Wooyoung sneered, eyes flicking between the two of you. "Guess the psycho bitch got her friend back."

San chuckled lowly, shaking his head. "Didn't expect to see you two holding hands after that little scene in the gym on Friday."

"We're not holding hands," you said flatly, not even blinking. "But if it bothers you that much, maybe you're just jealous."

That got a reaction. Mingi raised an eyebrow, lips twitching like he was trying not to grin. Hongjoong's eyes narrowed slightly, his gaze cutting into you like a blade. "You're awful bold today, Y/N."

You shrugged. "Yeah, well... weekends give me time to rest, recharge, and come back more annoying than ever."

Yeosang chuckled under his breath. "At least you're self-aware."

Seonghwa didn't say anything—just watched you with eyes that held something deeper. Not amusement. Not disgust. Just... curiosity.

Yuji cleared her throat softly, stepping closer to you without a word. You didn't have to look to know she was nervous, but she wasn't running. That meant something.

"What do you want?" you asked, voice calm, eyes on Hongjoong.

He tilted his head. "Nothing yet. But the day just started."

Then, as quickly as they came, they brushed past you both—each of them giving you one last glance, some smirking, some unreadable, some... lingering.

When they were gone, the tension in your chest finally loosened.

Yuji let out a breath. "Okay. That was..."

"A lot," you finished for her.

"Yeah."

You looked at her and gave the smallest, most real smile you'd shown all morning.

"Let's get lost again," you said.

Yuji smiled back. "Yeah. Let's."

🥀

"Hey Yuji, you got a pencil or pen I could borrow? I don't think I have one in my bag," you muttered, rifling through the worn fabric of your backpack.

"Yeah, here you go," Yuji said softly, digging into her pencil case before handing you a mechanical pencil.

"Thanks," you replied, managing a faint smile.

You dropped your eyes to the worksheet in front of you, but before you could even begin, the low hum of whispering started crawling its way into your ears. It came from all corners of the classroom — sneaky glances, muffled giggles, not-so-quiet exchanges passed between desks.

You glanced up.

Everyone was looking at you.

Pretending not to, but doing a terrible job at it. Their eyes flicked away when you caught them, but the mocking smiles stayed, stretched across their faces like masks.

You clenched your jaw and dropped your gaze back to your paper, forcing your hand to move — pretending to work, pretending not to hear the laughter that felt like knives being pushed into your back.

Your leg bounced under the desk, rapid and uncontrollable, the only outlet for the storm inside you.

Yuji, who had been focused on her own paper, noticed your sudden shift first. Her eyes flickered toward you — catching the frantic tapping of your foot, the tight grip you had on your pencil, the slight tremble in your hands.

Concern twisted her face. She looked up, and that's when she heard it too. The whispers. The mean-spirited giggles.

Her eyes scanned the room — catching the sidelong stares, the cruel smirks, the way students leaned into each other to whisper like you weren't even there, like you were just a new form of entertainment.

Yuji's heart dropped.

She looked back at you — at the way you kept your head down, pretending none of it mattered.

But she knew better.

🥀

The bell rang, slicing through the buzzing classroom.

You grabbed your bag roughly and made a beeline for the door, ignoring the way the room seemed to hum with laughter and whispering the second your back was turned. You didn't need to hear it to know it was about you. It always was.

Your head was down, shoulders tense, moving fast enough that people had to step aside — not because they respected you, but because they didn't want to get caught in whatever explosion you might unleash.

You barely noticed Yuji weaving through the crowd behind you until her hand suddenly grabbed your arm.

Without waiting for you to react, she locked her arm through yours, hugging it tight against her side.

You jerked slightly, startled, but Yuji only smiled up at you, bright and unbothered — like none of the whispers mattered. Like you weren't walking through hell right now.

When you didn't say anything, still stiff and tense, Yuji leaned closer and nudged you with her elbow, whispering teasingly, "Relax, tough girl. You're gonna give yourself wrinkles."

The words were light, silly — but they cracked something inside you.

You let out a quiet, almost breathless scoff, trying — and failing — to keep your face neutral.

A tiny, reluctant smirk tugged at the corner of your lips.

"You wish you could look this good under pressure," you muttered back without thinking, your voice hoarse but steady.

Yuji laughed — really laughed — and tightened her hold on your arm, practically beaming.

You shook your head slightly, a bit of warmth leaking into your chest despite yourself.

For a few seconds, as you and Yuji walked down the crowded hallway, the stares didn't feel so heavy.

The whispers didn't feel so sharp.

You weren't just Y/N the psycho bitch — you were Y/N who still had someone.

And for now... that was enough.

🥀

The lunchroom was buzzing with the usual chaos, but it felt different now that ATEEZ had decided to sit with you and Yuji. The members had claimed their spots around the table, and while Yuji was focused on her meal, you could feel their eyes on you—especially Hongjoong. His presence was almost impossible to ignore as he sat next to you, his body too close for comfort, though you didn't let it show.

Hongjoong, leaning in casually, took a sip of his drink. "Y/N, you've been awfully quiet today. What's on your mind?"

You gave him a tight smile, wanting to keep the interaction short. "Just hungry."

He grinned, his voice low, teasing. "I bet. You're usually more vocal when you're around us. Something's different today."

You ignored the way his voice held a strange warmth. Hongjoong had this way of drawing you in without even trying, and it unsettled you.

Mingi, ever the loud one, looked across the table at you. "I don't think I've ever met anyone like you, Y/N. You're unpredictable." His grin was mischievous, but there was something in his eyes that made you feel like he was saying more than he was letting on.

You let out a sharp breath, unamused by his attempts to push your buttons. "I'm just trying to get through the day, Mingi. Don't make it harder."

Seonghwa, who had been watching quietly, now leaned in. "You're tough, Y/N. I respect that."

You couldn't quite tell if he meant it or if there was some other implication behind his words. His eyes lingered on you for a moment too long, his gaze unreadable, like he was trying to figure you out.

Yeosang was more reserved, but even he couldn't resist joining in. "There's something... interesting about you, Y/N. Something that makes you stand out." He looked over at the others, then back at you, his lips barely curving into a smile.

You felt the weight of his words, but you didn't respond. You weren't in the mood to decode whatever cryptic messages they were sending your way.

Jongho, usually the quiet one, added his own comment, though it was more subtle than the others. "You don't blend in with the rest of the crowd, Y/N. That's... different."

You didn't acknowledge it, not wanting to encourage any more attention than you were already getting. You were tired of being the center of whatever game they were playing.

All the while, Hongjoong had been sitting next to you, his presence closer than it should have been. His hand brushed against your thigh, just for a second, but it felt like much longer. You froze, your breath catching in your throat. You immediately shifted away, but not fast enough to hide the sudden panic in your eyes. The touch reminded you of everything you wanted to forget—your scars, your past. And for a moment, you couldn't breathe.

Hongjoong didn't seem to notice, or at least didn't acknowledge it. His smile remained, casual and unaffected. "Wow, someone's a little bit jumpy today," he said, though his tone was still light, playful.

But you weren't listening. You were still reeling from the brief moment of contact, your mind racing, heart pounding. You didn't want to think about it, didn't want to analyze why his touch felt different from everyone else's. So, instead, you focused on Yuji.

She had been oblivious to the underlying tension, as always. She was just doing her best to enjoy the lunch, but you could feel her glancing at you occasionally, her concern evident as she chewed slowly, looking up at you with those soft, caring eyes.

"You good?" she asked quietly, nudging you gently.

You nodded quickly, forcing a smile. "Yeah, fine."

But the rest of the table... they weren't as subtle.

Hongjoong's smile lingered, and though he didn't say anything else, his eyes never fully left you. There was something there, something more than just playful teasing. Something that made your stomach twist.

Seonghwa chuckled lightly, but there was an edge to it, a certain fondness in his tone. "Y/N's not an easy one to crack, but I think she's starting to enjoy the attention."

Mingi, not missing a beat, added, "She's a tough nut to crack. I like that."

Yeosang glanced between the group before finally speaking up, his voice smooth and deliberate. "You never know what to expect with Y/N. It's... intriguing."

And though Jongho didn't speak often, his eyes kept drifting back to you. His gaze was quiet but steady, and you could tell he was more aware of you than he let on.

Yuji, blissfully unaware, continued to eat, looking from you to the group as though she was waiting for someone to break the silence.

"Are you guys done yet?" she asked finally, her voice warm but also slightly impatient. "I don't know how much longer I can handle this drama."

You let out a small, genuine laugh, and for a moment, it felt like everything wasn't falling apart.

But you couldn't ignore the feeling—Hongjoong's hand on your thigh, his lingering gaze, the way the others spoke as though they could see something about you that you couldn't. You weren't sure what it meant, and you didn't want to care. But the tension was thick, the air heavy with something unspoken.

And as you focused on Yuji, you tried to push it all aside. Just for now.

🥀

School was over, you had found yourself in the school's garden after school, needing to be alone. The world felt too loud, too overwhelming after everything that had happened, and this quiet, serene space beneath the cherry blossom trees seemed like the perfect place to clear your mind.

Sitting on a bench, you pulled your knees to your chest, trying to ground yourself in the soft breeze and the fluttering petals that cascaded down around you. For a moment, you could pretend that nothing else mattered, that the chaos of your life could pause in the midst of the delicate beauty around you.

But then you heard footsteps, light and purposeful. You looked up, already knowing who it was.

Seonghwa stood a few feet away, leaning against a tree, his eyes scanning you with an unreadable expression. "I should've known I'd find you here," he said, his voice smooth, like he was used to finding people where they least expected him.

You gave him a hard look, trying to hide the knot that formed in your stomach. "What do you want, Seonghwa?" you asked, voice flat.

He took a step forward, his gaze never leaving you, and your pulse quickened. "You have no idea what you're doing to us, do you?" His tone was teasing, almost like he was enjoying seeing you unsettled.

You furrowed your brows, confusion taking over. "What are you talking about?"

Seonghwa smirked, his eyes flicking down to your lips before meeting your eyes again. "The kiss. The one you and Hongjoong shared. You thought we didn't know , do you?"

Your heart skipped a beat, the memory of Hongjoong's lips on yours, his words lingering in the back of your mind. Seonghwa seemed to notice the shift in your expression, and he took another step closer.

"Don't worry," he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. "We all saw it. Saw the way you looked at him, how he couldn't keep his eyes off you. But that kiss..." His voice dropped lower, a hint of something dangerous and teasing in it. "I bet it felt different when he kissed you. But, who knows?" He stepped closer still, his face inches from yours. "Maybe you'd like to find out how it feels when I kiss you."

Before you could say anything, before you could even fully process the heat rising in your chest, Seonghwa cupped your face gently, leaning in with that same smirk playing at the corners of his mouth.

You froze, unable to move as his lips brushed against yours, soft at first, like a whisper of something too intense for you to comprehend. But as his kiss deepened, the confusion turned into something else, something stirring deep inside you that you didn't understand. For a split second, you forgot about everything—forgot about the world around you, about the tension between you both, about the fact that he was one of the people who had been tormenting you for days.

But then, just as quickly, the reality hit. You snapped out of it, pushing him away with a sharp movement, your heart pounding in your chest.

"What the hell, Seonghwa?" you spat, your voice shaking with the mix of confusion and slight anger.

Seonghwa stood there, grinning like it was all just some game to him. "You still don't get it, do you?" he asked, his voice low and almost amused. "You're dangerous, Y/N. You don't even realize what you're doing to all of us."

His words lingered in the air, thick with tension, as you struggled to process everything. What was he talking about? Why did he kiss you? And why did it feel like your world was turning upside down with every moment spent in his presence?

Seonghwa took a step back, still watching you with that infuriating smile on his face. "Think about it, Y/N," he said softly. "Maybe you'll figure it out eventually."

He turned and walked away, leaving you standing there, heart racing, still confused and lost in the aftermath of what had just happened. The cherry blossoms continued to fall around you, the petals swirling in the air like fragments of something you couldn't quite grasp.

You sat down on the bench again, staring at the spot where Seonghwa had been standing, the taste of his kiss still lingering on your lips, as your mind spun, trying to make sense of everything. But nothing made sense anymore, and as the breeze carried more petals around you, all you could think was: What just happened?

𝐴𝐿𝐿 𝑅𝐼𝐺𝐻𝑇𝑆 𝑅𝐸𝑆𝐸𝑅𝑉𝐸𝐷 𝐹𝑂𝑅 𝑁𝑂𝐼𝑅𝐸-𝑋𝑋. 𝐷𝑂 𝑁𝑂𝑇 𝑆𝑇𝐸𝐴𝐿, 𝐶𝑂𝑃𝑌, 𝑂𝑅 𝐶𝐿𝐴𝐼𝑀 𝑀𝑌 𝑊𝑂𝑅𝐾 𝐴𝑆 𝑌𝑂𝑈𝑅 𝑂𝑊𝑁.

[sundeyyy]

—WATCH YOUR BACK

II: GOOD LUCK, LITTLE ONE

𝑃𝐴𝐼𝑅𝐼𝑁𝐺: BadBoys!Ateez OT8 x Broken!Reader

𝑊𝐶: 6.6k

𝑆𝑌𝑁𝑂𝑃𝑆𝐼𝑆: After your first encounter with Ateez, you are now their new target. Now, you don't tend to break easily... well depending on the situation of course. So, what will Ateez have do to just to see that bold facade of yours fall...hm?

𝑊𝐴𝑅𝑁𝐼𝑁𝐺𝑆: Bullying, Physical violence, Verbal abuse, Profanity, Panic, Blood, Threats

𝐷𝐼𝑆𝐶𝐿𝐴𝐼𝑀𝐸𝑅: This series is not a representation of the idols as individuals and is to not be taken seriously. If you’re uncomfortable with the content in the series or on my page, then feel free to click off at any moment.

———————————————————————————————

"Y/n, oh my gosh you need to hide right now!" Yuji came running up to you as soon as you arrived to your locker as she gave you a scared look. "Um, why do I have to hide Yuji?" You asked as you gave Yuji a confused look. All of a sudden you and Yuji heard girls squealing, which only meant one thing, Ateez had just arrived at the school.

"Y/n, you need to go hide right now! " Yuji begged as she shook your shoulders. "Yuji listen, I'm not scared of those assholes alright, I can handle myself okay." You tried to reassure Yuji. "Y/n no please I'm begging you, you are in danger, you need to hide." Yuji whined.

"Yuji, trust me I'm fine, I will be fine, and I'll always be fine okay, stop worrying." You really to convince Yuji, but she didn't seem so convinced by your words.

"Y/n, look around." Yuji ordered. You look around and see that some people who were in the hallway were looking at you with hatred and some with disgusted expressions.

"See Y/n, after you pissed off Ateez, everyone in this god forsaken school now hates you, next thing you know, it's gonna be the while damn town!" You blinked a couple of times completely taken back because of what Yuji said.

Everyone hating you wasn't something you were new to, you knew it, you just hated hearing the words said to you, it hurt the scared love-craving little girl inside of you, but you didn't want to show it.

"Yuji, being hated by is not new to me okay, you have nothing to worry about, now come on let's go everyone to class." You grabbed Yuji's arm as you two began walking to class with everyone's eyes fixed on you.

🥀

You just finish writing notes in your notebook and decided to ask to go to the bathroom to kill time until lunch. "Uhm, Mr. Chan can I go to the bathroom please?" You asked as your raised hand. "Did you your notes, Ms. Choi, If you didn't finish your notes then you can't go."

"Yes, I just finished them." you said with an irritated tone. "Alright then, you can go" your teacher nodded "Thanks." You got up and walked out of the classroom and into the hallway. And as you were walking into the hallway you felt people watching you.

You turned around to see if anyone was there, but there was no one there. But, when you turned around you found yourself being surrounded by Yunho, Yeosang, Mingi, Wooyoung & Jongho. "My fucking god, what in the hell are you doing sneaking up on me like that, what the fuck do you idiots want?" You asked while crossing your arms.

"See, it's only been like 5 seconds and I already wanna punch her in her damn the mouth." Yunho spat while looking at you with disgust. "I would love to see you try, dumbass." You groaned while putting your hands on your hips. "The fuck did you just call me?" Yunho growled while walking up to you.

" My goodness, if you were fucking listening to me the first time, then maybe you wouldn't have asked me to repeat what I said." You grumbled rolling your eyes. "Grab this bitch." you were about to run until Jongho grabbed very tightly causing intense pain in your arm.

"Ow you dick, could you be a little more gentle please?" But calling Jongho a dick only cause him to hold you even tighter. "Where in the are you taking me anyway, Disney Land"? You asked with a mix of sass and sarcasm. "School basement so we can fuck you up". Yeosang snarled without looking at you.

"The fuck me up to do you mean like beat me to death or actually fu-" you teased "The first one now shut up." Yunho interrupted you. "Okay chill out bitch , I was just asking because if it was the case you could've at least given me a minute to get ready." "Why do you talk so fucking much"? Mingi groaned.

"Why do you think everyone in this school is scared of you" you argued "Because they are and you should be too if you wanna breathe for the rest of your life". Wooyoung sneered."I'm not scared so I guess I won't breathe for the rest of my life then" you joked "You'll be scared eventually, I promise you". Jongho reassured as smirked down at you.

"Yeah, I fucking doubt it, so you can just take back your promise". You cackled. "That's what you're saying now, but just wait" Yeosang then grabbed your chin and brought his face to yours making you look him in the eye "Just you wait." Yeosang chuckled. "Well good luck with that." You replied nonchalantly.

"We don't need luck baby, we know what were doing trust me." Wooyoung asserted. "We're gonna beat your ass down believe that, sooner and later you're gonna be crying and saying that you're sorry." Yunho smirked. "I doubt that, so don't try to raise your ego's by doing thinking that I will."

You rolled your eyes. "Trust me bitch, you will." Jongho growled. "You wish you dumb piece of shit" you nagged. "If you say so" Jongho replied while tightening his grip. "Jongho, the basement is down the hall and to your right, everyone is already waiting for us there." Yeosang reported.

You noticed that Jongho loosen his grip when listening to Mingi which gave you a chance to run, so you yanked your arm away and started running. You pushed the others out of the way so they wouldn't grab you. "Come on, let's grab her." Yunho roared as he and the others ran after you.

You ran as fast you could until you saw an empty dark classroom that you could run to, but as you were running to it you hear footsteps.

You turned only to see Jongho running towards you, so you ran into and tried to shut the door but Jongho got in before you could shut the door.

You tried to run around him and out the door but quickly close it came towards you, but when you tried to run away Jongho grabbed you and pushed you up against the wall.

"Let me go asshole." You whined while hitting his arms."Who in the hell do you think you are running from us huh?" Jongho grabbed by your shirt and holding you up against the wall. "Choi Y/N bitch now let me go" You yelled hitting Jongho's arms even harder. "Not a fucking chance" Jongho hissed "Everyone fucking hates you bitch." Jongho roared.

Your squirming came to halt when you heard the words that came out of Jongho's mouth."W-what did you just say?" You stuttered as you looked at Jongho trying to fight the tears that were forming in your eyes preparing to fall down your face.

Jongho on the other hand, notice right away and quickly smirked. "Awe poor baby, did I hurt your feelings." Jongho whispered as he leaned closer your right ear.

All you could was stare at him with tears in your eyes. Again you hated hearing those combinations of words said you, you hated them more since they were true.

Hearing those words coming out of the mouths of family members from both of your mothers side and your fathers side of the family, classmates, teachers, past school board officials gathered up in conference rooms with both you and your mother discussing your behavior and soon expulsion, not hesitating to say the words even though your mother is in the room.

Your father, The evil excuse of a man. The main source to your problems. The one who introduced you to those words and more. Those words that stuck with you your entire life, and will forever stick with you til the day you die. Everyone hates you.

"Hey, earth to bitch." Jongho's laughter brought you back to your senses as he snapped his fingers in your face."There she is, where did you go babygirl" Yunho chuckled teasingly "You left us for a second, did Jongho hurt your feelings little one, hm?" Yunho laughed as he walked up to and began playing with your hair.

"You know, it's a shame that you have such a pretty face." Yunho sighed. "Yeah, if you didn't act the way you do, hell I would have maybe considered going out with you." Wooyoung chimed. "Right with you Woo, kinda sad actually." Mingi added sucking his teeth.

As soon as Mingi finished his sentence, the rest of ATEEZ walking into the classroom you were being held captive in. "The hell is taking you guys so long, huh?" Hongjoong being the last one to enter walked in and immediately knew what was going on. "Oh poor thing, let me guess, you tried to run away and failed." Hongjoong pouted at you teasingly as he walked up to you and the rest of the boys.

You started squirming again, attempting to get out of Jongho's grip but again it was no use, Jongho was strong as hell even you hate to admit it. "Let me go you stupid son of a bitch!" You demanded. "After the choice of words you decided to use, no I don't think Jongho will do that now." Seonghwa replied sucking his teeth.

You started to get irritated and thought of the only way you could get Jongho to let go of you, but you had to be fast. You hastily swung your leg up as it connected with Jongho's crotch, immediately letting go of you Jongho fell to his knees and groaned in pain.

"You stupid little-." San roared as his tried to grab you, you swiftly dodged him grabbing a stapler off of the teacher's desk and swung, hitting San on the side of his head.

San winced in pain as he held his face with his hands. "Son of a bitch!" San shouted as rubbed his hand up against the side of his head, only to feel a staple and wetness running down his face. ATEEZ quickly coming to both Jongho's and San's aid gave you a chance to run as fast as you could out of the classroom.

You didn't turn to look behind you, only focusing on getting away from ATEEZ. You eventually made it to the bathroom and once you got in, you shut the door behind you.

Tears streaming down your face, you felt your own heartbeat through your ears, a painful sting in your chest that you couldn't even stop from the outside of your body by holding your hand up to your chest, it's as if you had just ran a marathon. Your mouth felt dry as if you had been in a left stranded in a desert for days, as for your throat in which felt like sandpaper.

You felt like you were being choked by an invisible force, it felt like air refused to come in and out of your body. Everything in your vision looked like as if you were looking through a fish-eyed lens, everything then look so blurry, you couldn't focus on anything even if you tried.

You began to shiver as chills ran throughout your body, as if you were outside in the winter without the proper gear to keep you warm, all you could do was hold yourself tightly in response. You felt tingles all over your body, pin and needles from head to toe.

You didn't notice that someone had walked into the bathroom. As you were trying to catch you breath, you heard the bathroom door open. "Y/n the teacher Is waiting for- Y/n what's wrong? What happened? Is everything okay?" Yuji asked while she runs up to you. You looked at Yuji and gave her a fake smile.

"Yea I'm fine just thought about something that's all " you replied with a smile still painted on your face. what happened? "Yuji squats down and outs her hands on your shoulder, while looking at you with a worried and slightly concerned face.

"Nothing Important, come on let's go to class I didn't have to pee anyway just wanted to walk around honestly." You answered obviously lying. "Something tells me that you are lying , but I'll believe you, for now" Yuji squinted her eyes at you.

"Yuji, I promise you I'm fine" you smiled at Yuji while laughing at her squinting her eyes at you. "Are you sure that you're "fine" Y/N? " Yuji questioned as she looked at you with a kind smile plastered on her face.

"Yes I'm fine" You reassured at Yuji. "Okay then, well let's get back to class before Mr. Chan sends another person out to get us next" Yuji giggles as she helps you up off the bathroom floor.

🥀

"I can't believe he gave you detention for having a moment in the bathroom, that's so ridiculous fucking" Yuji complained. "I know, he could've at least show sympathy for me or something" You and Yuji walked into the cafeteria when everyone turned and look at you.

"Why is everyone staring at me?" You asked with a confused expression on your face. "The incident that happened yesterday with the boys remember?" Yuji replied. You looked over and saw people looking at you with hatred and others with disgust.

"Oh yeah that, well I'm hungry let's go in the line." You say setting your stuff down at a table in the back of the cafeteria. You and Yuji get into the lunch line to get your food, when you notice that everyone including the lunch ladies were staring at you and whispering.

"Let me guess the teachers and staff know about the Incident yesterday to huh?" You asked clearly annoyed. "Everyone does Y/n, no teachers or staff can help you either." Yuji responded. "Uhm, why is that?" You raised an eyebrow, "Y/n, everyone is so terrified of them and so no one intervenes In situations involving them and any student that crosses them. "

"Well that's messed up and stupid, people in this school are fucking babies." You and Yuji got your lunches and went to go sit down. "Y/n, everyone is staring at you" Yuji whispered. "I know, but honestly I couldn't care less, I got other things to not worry about."

You shrugged until the cafeteria went silent so you and Yuji looked and saw ATEEZ waking into the cafeteria. "Oh just fucking great." You exaggerated. "Woah what happened to San's face?" Yuji questioned.

"Oh nothing, I just bitch slapped him on the side of his head with a stapler." You giggled, smirking at Yuji who in returned looked at you with a horrified. "What, Are you crazy Y/n, why would you do that?" She loudly whispered while looking at you in a panic like state.

"Well, he tried to attacked me so I defended myself ." you shrugged while playing with your food and taking glances at the boys who also happen to be looking at you. "But enough with the unimportant shit, what are you doing after school? Because if you're not doing anything then maybe we could possibly hang out or something." You stared at Yuji waiting for an answer.

"Well actually I have dance practice on weekdays and weekends." Yuji answered while twirling her fork in her noodles. "Wait, you take dance classes?" your eyes widened as you looked at Yuji who then started giggling at you.

"Yea" Yuji giggled, "I've been dancing for year's actually, I meant to tell you this yesterday but I didn't get to because of well... you know." Yuji tilted her head slightly toward ATEEZ's direction. "Well, now I know and I also know why you bring a duffle bag to school now." you laughed.

"Yeah, after school I got straight to dance practice, you can come to watch me dance after school if you want." Yuji gave you a cheeky smile "You can ride with me there, after my dance practice, we can go to the mall or something." Yuji looked at you with excitement.

"Of course, I'll come, Yuji, I wanna see what moves you can do." you smiled at Yuji. "Oh trust me, I can do a lot," Yuji replied giving you a sly smile. You and Yuji laughed, but you slowly stopped when you felt ATEEZ looking at you again.

I mean you weren't scared or anything but you just felt uncomfortable with all of them glaring at you while you were trying to converse to Yuji. So you decided to do something stupid and risky considering your current situation between you and them.

You thought that since you weren't gonna eat your food anyway, you thought that maybe they might... want it, if you know what I mean. I know right, too risky, but you were an unstoppable risk taker and badass, so why not do something that could... No... will get you in even more trouble with them.

You took your milk carton and poured in your rice and then grabbed your fruit and poured that in after, then mixed it until it looked like straight-up puke. While you were doing so, Yuji was watching the whole process while wondering what suspicious acts you were up to this time.

You looked at Yuji who then looked at you and you gave her a wink and picked up the disgusting combination mess you've made and slowly walking to the table where the groups were all sitting at.

Realization hit Yuji one she quickly figured out what you were doing and fearfully watched as you started your leaning arm back, getting ready to throw that abomination your created on your lunch tray at ATEEZ.

Yuji, who was trying protect you, attempted to run up and stop you, hoping to save you from a potential beat down but it was already too late, you threw your beautiful art work directly at ATEEZ.

Everyone in the cafeteria looked at you in surprise considering what you had done. And Yuji looked at you with so much worry but the only thing she could do for you was to say..."Y/n... run...now... GO!"

You looked at Yuji then back at ATEEZ who were now speed walking towards you, So you then took off running into the hallway which caused them to then start running after you. You ran in the hallway turning corners and sharp turns while looking for a room to hide out in.

You then notice the gym ahead of you and began running towards the doors, opening them and running inside. You were greeted by the dim lights and a huge space...Well, not that empty considering that there were bleachers at every corner of the gym.

You heard the gym doors burst open followed by multiple loud footsteps. The boys all started sprinting towards you causing you to run to the girl's locker room, but just your luck...you were grabbed by Hongjoong and Seonghwa, and then you were picked up and carried in forcefully into a huge gym storage closet.

"Put me down assholes!" you shouted at Jongho while hitting his back. " Shut up." Both Hongjoong and Seonghwa shouted in unison. They put you down and pushed you to the floor causing you to hit your butt on the hard floor. The groups all hovered over you with angry faces and your art project on their clothes and faces.

"Hey, I like the designs on your clothes, who did it?" you chuckled. " You think this is fucking funny?" Hongjoong growled while walking up to you angrily. "Yes, yes I do think this is funny." You nodding, smiling stupidly at the boys. San walked up to you and grabbed you by your shirt, pulling you towards him. "I'll show you what's funny bitch" San said angrily and rises his fist and punched you straight in the face.

You fell back on the ground holding your face while watching as the was blood dripping from your mouth."Goddammit, I wasn't ready asshole!" you yelped as you tried to wipe the wine colored liquid from your mouth. "Awe, well then you can be ready for this one then." Wooyoung hissed as he instantly walked up to you.

He was about to punch you; when suddenly you had a chance to stop him. So, you kicked him in his chest and with that he grunted in pain as he fell down on the floor holding his hands up onto his chest while also trying to breath; that gave you time to get up and run out of the gym.

"You guys go get her, I got Woo." Yeosang shouted while kneeling down next to Wooyoung instructing him to breathe slowly in order to get the air fully into his lungs. You ran as you heard Hongjoong shouting. "San, Yunho and Mingi you guys go this way okay? The rest of us will go the other way!"

You were running through the halls trying to find a room the hide in when you saw Ateez coming down the hall you were in. You quickly ran into a huge empty classroom and attempted to shut the door, Ateez busted in knocked you back up against a huge desk in the front of the classroom.

Ateez moves from in front of the door the let Ateez in. "Gotcha bitch." Yeosang walks up to you and tried to grab you push him back using all of your strength.

Luckily for you, it was a good amount because Yeosang went stumbling backward eventually falling and hitting his head on the edge of the huge desk. Jongho walked in and saw Yeosang struggling to get back on his feet as blood trickled down from his forehead.

"You dumb fucking bitch" Jongho gently helped Yeosang up before quickly walked up to you, but before you could attempt to defend yourself, the rest of ATEEZ came in the room.

Seonghwa and Hongjoong grabbed and held you in place while Jeno threw his first two punches at you stomach then at your face. You fell on the floor hard causing you to yelp in pain. Jongho then walked up to you and started kicking you in your stomach multiple times.

Every kick was also a lack of air you received into your lungs. You mouth hung open but no air came in or out, the only thing that came out of your mouth was blood.

Your eyes widened at the sight. You remembered. You hated it. You didn't want to remember It again. But no matter how hard you tried, you couldn't stop it. Your body went numb, you're trying to catch your breath, but everything at that this very moment was in slow motion. But everything had soon gone back to its regular pace when you felt a pair of hands gripping at your hair proceeding to yank your head up to face who ever wanted your attention.

"I hope you learn your lesson you little bitch" San stared straight into your eyes which hatred and satisfaction as he watched blood ooze from your face. "Hey San" you looked at him then chuckled "Eat shit asshole" your bloody mouth then formed a smirk. San looked at you with shock and anger, they all did.

They wondering how could you stay so calm after what they had done. How are you not begging for mercy or crying in agony? Seonghwa then grabbed you, lifted you up, and pinned up against the wall.

"What the fuck is wrong you huh? What in the fuck is your problem?" Seonghwa looked straight into your eyes. He was furious, you hurt one of his younger and disrespect his friends, his family, but you couldn't care less.

You gave a sly smirk to Seonghwa "Like I said, it's gonna take a lot more than a couple of ass whoopings to get me to kneel down to bow to you dumb fucks" you laughed "But if you idiot are willing to go so low to get me there you motherfuckers must really love having power over people huh? " you continued to laugh as you pushed out of Seonghwa's grip.

"You all can beat me up, break all my limbs ,or even murder me, but at the end of the day, I won't bow down to you, I won't giving the fucking satisfaction you fuckers deeply crave. So, you can do as you please with me but know this... I don't give a fuck!" You start to laugh uncontrollably.

"And yes I might've cried because of what that muscular bear said earlier back in that classroom but guess what-" you clasped you hands together" I still doesn't change that fact that I just don't give a fuck." You chuckled.

"Now if you'll excuse me, I'm gonna go to the bathroom and washed my face, can't wait to see what you guys do to me next" you turn around about to walked out the door before turning around again to say one last thing.

"I'll be waiting" you winked and ATEEZ in the classroom.They boys looked at each other in amusement as you walked out the door and down the hall.

"Man she's hot." Mingi chuckled as he licked his lips thinking about what just happened, and in return receiving glares from his friends. "Look at me like that all you want, you're all thinking the exact same thing." Mingi teased while looking back at his friend who were now smiling at each other, silently admitting that they thought the same.

🥀

You were sitting in an empty classroom serving your detention, playing with your jacket strings when suddenly you heard the classroom door open. You thought it was the teacher so you turned around, but when you did , you were greeted by someone totally different.

"Aish, what the hell do you want?" You rolled your eyes at the sight of Hongjoong entering the classroom." Just shut the hell up and just my questions, I don't have time for your shit right now." Hongjoong came and sat on your desk, his eyes refusing to leave yours.

"What questions are you about to ask me idiot because I'm really not in the mood" you slouched in your chair and staring out the window. Hongjoong sighed and you then heard a click, so looked and saw a pocket knife in Hongjoong's hands.

"Ahhh, oh my god don't kill me please." You sarcastically replied slightly waving your arms. "Just shut up and answer my damn questions." he demanded while pointing the knife at you.

"Is that supposed to scare m-" Hongjoong cut your sentence by grabbing you by the shirt and holding the knife at your neck. "Shut. Up. Now." His face was now closer to yours " Now, first question, who is your father?" You quickly turned your head in response to Hongjoong's question.

"Wouldn't you like to fucking know?" You chuckled. "What is your goddamn name?" Hongjoong looked at you slightly annoyed. "Choi Jaewun, why?" you looked at him irritated. "Well, a little birdy told me that he's in jail, well... was in jail, he's out now, did you know that sweetheart?" You looked up at Hongjoong who instantly began smirking.

"Oh, you didn't know? Yeah, he's out now." You looked away from Hongjoong, but he grabbed your chin making you look at him again. "Aren't you happy? You get to see your dad again, I bet he's gonna be really happy to see you, don't you think?" In an attempt to snatch your face away from Hongjoong, he then gripped your neck firmly bring you close to his face, leaving no space between the two of you.

"Stop snatching away from me." Hongjoong gritted teeth. He stared at you for a moment, admiring your features. He couldn't help but laugh and shake his head. In return you did the same, admiring his long eyelashes, mysterious dark brown eyes, his pointed nose, and his small plump lips, it's a shame he's such an asshole.

"You know, that little show you put on earlier in that empty classroom was quite entertaining." Hongjoong admitted as he admired your busted lip. Gently rubbing his thumb across your lips, looking repeatedly at your eyes and lips. "The fuck are you looking at?" You spat, "A bitch." Hongjoong responded still looking at your lips.

Hongjoong let his urges get the best of him, there was just something about you. He despised you, yet he couldn't help but wonder what your lips would feel like on his. Hongjoong grabbed your face, roughly connecting his lips to yours, you pulled your face away staring at him surprised.

Hongjoong, obviously not ashamed, smirked at you, " What's wrong love, you surprised?" He tilted his head, as he giggled sinisterly at your face. "You know, the boys and I were talking about you earlier and-" Hongjoong wasn't able to finish his sentence because you cut him off.

"Yeah that's great or whatever, are you done?" Hongjoong a little taken back from your words began to chuckle as he let you go and stepping back and looking at you. "Oh how fun it's gonna be watching you and your father have a nice little family reunion" Hongjoong signed with an evil grin on his face.

"Well that seems nice, let me know when you find him then." You sarcastically smile then start playing with your jacket strings again. Meanwhile Hongjoong was looking at you with shock. "Are you gonna leave or are you just gonna keep looking me like some stupid little five year old?" You looked up at him whilst still playing with your jacket strings.

Hongjoong scoffed and came close to your ear. "Oh Y/n." He then whispers in your ear, "You have no fucking idea what you're getting yourself into, baby." He moves away from your ear and stands up from off the desk then proceeds to walk to the door, but then stops in his tracks.

"I'm really looking forward to seeing you suffer Y/n." he winks at you, about to walk out of the classroom until you responded to his words. "Me too." you replied looking at Hongjoong with a small smile, he stared at you for a moment before chuckling and leaving you alone in the classroom.

🥀

Detention is over, and school now is closed for the day. You walked out of the school getting ready to head home. It hasn't even been 5 minutes yet, but you felt like you were being watched. You felt multiple eyes on you, and you knew exactly whose they were, so you stop in your tracks.

"So, you guys are watching me walk home now, it's giving very much stalker?" you turned only to see ATEEZ who were walking now all standing behind you, staring at you with smirks plastered on their faces. "We just wanna make sure you got home safely." Seonghwa paused for a moment, "For your protection, you know."

Seonghwa smiled innocently, but you knew it was bullshit. "Oh really, and what might you all be so eager to protect me from huh?" you looked at the boys clearly with a sarcastic . "Oh now Y/n, you and I both know that the world is a dangerous place."

San smiled, "You never know a person could just grab you, pull you into a back alley or an abandoned building and just beat you to death." You saw the shift in San's demeanor, if the darkness in his eyes weren't there before, it's sure was there now.

"Oh, alrighty then." You smiled sarcastically, rolling your eyes you turned back around to continue walking again until you heard foot steps behind you. You felt someone grab you and push you up against the wall, you looked up and saw that it was Seonghwa, looking down at you with disgust.

"Dammit, why do you motherfuckers keep pushing me up against walls?" you look at them in annoyance. "Because, it's fun looking at you all weak and defenseless that's why." Yeosang smiled stupidly while squeezing your cheeks with his hands, which gave you a chance to bite him, "Ah, you fucking bitch" Yeosang hollered as he fanned his hand around in pain.

"Keep your nasty little sausage fingers outta my face asshole." You demanded, "Listen bitch, you keep running your mouth like that, it's gonna get you fucked up you little b-" you cut off Yunho in his sentence, "Oh for crying out loud, you guys say that shit, but then you don't do a damn thing about it.

So far all you did was chase me around the school like a bunch of animals, and then when you caught me , all you did punch me a couple of times, threaten me, and left." You chuckled, "Like come on, you guys are pathetic."

"Guys, she's right" Wooyoung sucked his teeth. The read of ATEEZ looked at him with both shock and confusion written on their faces. "We've been going to easy on her guys, we gave her couple of punch to the face and she still won't learn, I say we do more." Wooyoung smiled at the groups who finally understood what he meant.

Agreed , I want this bitch to see what it feels like to have something be smacked up against her head, but instead of a stapler, I want it to be with a brick" San stares you down. "Ah Im so scared" you sarcastically. "Look whatever you're gonna make it quick alright I really don't wanna be here with you guys anymore" you replied blankly.

" We want everyone to see what happens when you constantly fuck with us, including your little friend, Yuji." he chuckled. " Yea, well I mean she did try to warn you, but you just didn't listen, did you?" Wooyoung shook his head at you then chuckled. " Well, I'm not the type to listen to a persons warnings, mkay?" You sassed. "I don't care about the consequences."

You laughed while shrugging your shoulders. San then walked up to you, placing his hand on your chin, making you look up at him. "If only you knew what that mouth of yours can get you into." San smirked while shaking his head, you on the other yanked your chin away from San's grip.

" Oh my goodness, I honestly don't care, at this point in my life, I honestly don't care if I live or die." You shrugged, " So, hurt me all you want I don't care, you can beat me up, torture me, I mean shit you guys can even kill me if that's what you want, do whatever I couldn't care less." Hongjoong raised his eyebrows at you and grinned.

"Now again I say, let me go, so I can go home a sleep." You ordered. "You're a little fucked up in the head aren't you." Hongjoong replied walking up to you. Hongjoong did a shoo-ing hand motion toward Seonghwa, letting him know to step away, Seonghwa nodded in response and walked over to the rest of Ateez.

"Fuck you." sweetheart." Hongjoong chuckled, "But you pushed me away and the only thing I managed to get was a kiss, it's a shame." Hongjoong moved away from your ear and was now looking into your eyes, "You would've had the best time of your life in there with me." And with that Hongjoong winked and moving away from your face.

They all looked at you skeptically as they think about what you just said. But then they all look at each other, then nodded and signaled Seonghwa unpinned you from the wall.

Seonghwa hesitated but then sighed as he began unpinning you, huffing in irritation clearly upset that he didn't get to do anything to you as San put his arm around his shoulder.

"So with that being, since you don't care what we do to you, I guess all we can say before we let you go is..." Hongjoong came close to your face and said, "Good luck, little one." he looked at you with a smirk on his face.

"You're the little one." You then stuck out your tongue and spit at him cause some spit to get on Hongjoong's face. Hongjoong took deep breath before charging at you until Seonghwa stopped him midway. "Calm down and wait til tomorrow, she'll get what she deserves" Seonghwa eyed you up and down.

Seonghwa then signaled Hongjoong to walk away from you, but while Seonghwa began walking away, you noticed that Hongjoong was standing still in front of you, eyeing you up and down before he chuckled and proceeded go back to his group. And you watch as ATEEZ and began walking away fading into the darkness of the street in front of you." Assholes" you mumbled as you turned around and began walking home.

🥀

You got dress after you got out of the shower and began climbing onto your bed when you got a phone call from Yuji.

You: "Hey Yuji, wassup."

Yuji: "OMG Y/n are you alright, I saw what happened to you.

Y/N: "Wait how did you see what happened to me."

Yuji: "Some guy recorded it and posted it, he also sent it to everyone in the school."

You: "Of course he did, but yeah I'm good, I guess."

Yuji: " Y/n seriously I think you should just leave them be or apologize because I'm getting really worried for you and I really don't wanna see you get hurt."

You: " Yuji, chill out I'm fine okay I don't care about what they do to me."

Yuji: "Well, I do and I really want you to see that."

You: " Yuji, you're really over reacting about this whole situation."

Yuji: " Overreacting, I care about you Y/n and I don't want to see you get hurt by them anymore."

You: " How could you possibly care for me Yuji? You've only known me for two whole straight days, it just doesn't make sense to me."

Yuji: " Y/n I think you need to realize that there are people who care about you, like your mom, me, and your family."

You: "My family doesn't give a damn about me, my mom honestly just tolerates me, you're just in my life temporarily here."

Yuji: "Temporarily, What is that supposed to mean?"

You: " Well, yeah. I mean who would honestly want to be friends with me, huh?"

Yuji: " Me, I would want to be friends with you. Do you not think that anyone would wont to?"

You: " Yeah actually, everyone fucking hates me Yuji. Why do you even want to be friends with me huh?"

Yuji: "Because Y/n, you're a cool person. When I saw you, your hair, and your style, I immediately thought, holy shit, this girl looks badass as fuck, I need to be friends with her."

You: " Yuji you don't know what you're talking about and you're making a fool of yourself for hanging out with me and wanting to be friends with me?"

Yuji: "Well, then I guess I'll be a fool."

You: " Yuji, you can’t be serious right now, Ugh whatever, something tells me that you're not gonna let up that easily so, are you sure you wanna be friends with me?"

Yuji: "Yeah, dude I wanna be friends with you Y/n, look, you need to be more positive, okay? Everyone is not gonna hate you, unless you make them, and well, I guess you kinda already did that."

You: " Ha, yeah I kinda did, huh? Well, Mingi was being a jerk and clearly scared the kid to death."

Yuji: "Yeah I know, but what about when you trash talked them yesterday, hit one of them today with a stapler, and then threw food on all of them during lunch, huh?"

You: "Yeah okay, I guess that was all my doing. But, anyways it's to late to turn back now so, might as well just along with whatever is gonna happen to me for the school year anyways."

Yuji: "But, Y/n you-."

You: "Yuji, I'll be fine trust me alright. I'm not scared okay, i got this, i'm ready."

🥀

do not steal, copy, or claim my work as your own. all rights reserved for noire-xx

[sundeyyy]

—WATCH YOUR BACK

I: WATCH YOUR BACK, B*TCH

𝑃𝐴𝐼𝑅𝐼𝑁𝐺: BadBoys!Ateez OT8 x Broken!Reader

𝑊𝐶: 4.3k

𝑆𝑌𝑁𝑂𝑃𝑆𝐼𝑆: Your first day at your new school, oh look, you made a new friend... and a lot of enemies.

𝑊𝐴𝑅𝑁𝐼𝑁𝐺𝑆: Bullying, Profanity, Physical violence, Verbal abuse

𝐷𝐼𝑆𝐶𝐿𝐴𝐼𝑀𝐸𝑅: This series is not a representation of the idols as individuals and is to not be taken seriously. If you’re uncomfortable with the content in the series or on my page, then feel free to click off at any moment.

———————————————————————————————

As an attempt to wake you up, your mother gently shook you and whispered, "Y/n, baby wake up, you're going to be late for your first day of school." you, in response to your mothers words, groaned, "Mmm..."Your mother hesitated a little before attempting to shake you again, but continued to do so anyway, "Honey, please get up you're going to be late for-." You cut your mother off before she could even finish her sentence, "Mom, I know, get the hell away from me and get out of my damn room!" you screamed at your mother, she stepped back from you suddenly, shocked. She said something to you before turning to leave your room. Your mother squeaked, "I-I'm sorry sweetie." your mom stuttered as she walked out of your room, you growled as you muttered, "Ugh, so goddamn irritating." You got out of bed and went into your bathroom, leaning over the sink and gazing at yourself in the mirror. You took a deep breath and continued staring at yourself. You rolled your eyes and turned away from yourself, completely disgusted. You went to the bathroom after that and finally changed into some clothes.

Having struggled to find a nice outfit to wear to school, you sighed in defeat and just grabbed a large, baggy black sweatshirt, some old, beat-up Converse, and camo cargo pants. Even though you absolutely hated looking at yourself, you put on the outfit you chose and then turned to face the mirror. When you saw yourself, you shook your head in disappointment and displeasure, scoffing as you moved your gaze from the mirror to your bedroom door, where your book bag was located. You left your room after grabbing your book bag, you headed downstairs when you noticed your mother was waiting for you in the living room, you went downstairs. As you approached the front door, you walked passed your mother and she said, "Oh honey, are you not hungry?" Your mother then attempted to object, saying, "But honey, do not you want to at least eat something, you know I hate it when you don't eat, it scares me." You immediately turned to your mother and yelled, "I said come on!" Your mother was defeated, and she muttered, "Alright."

You then proceeded to walk to the car with your mother following behind you, you opened the car door and sat in the front seat, slamming the door after you were fully in the car, while your mother walked over to the driver's side, softly closing the car door after she was completely in the car. Your mother started the car, but before she pulled off, she gave you a sorrowful look and said nothing. Your growled, "Stop staring at me and drive" your mom sighed. During the entire car ride, your mother stopped and started driving without a word.

🥀

Just as you were ready to leave your new school, your mother interrupted you "Y/n, I understand that you do not want to talk to me at this moment, but please pay attention to what I am saying: please do not get into any problems. You have attended six different schools, and—" you cut off your mom in the middle of her sentence,"Oh my God, can you fucking stop". You snarled as you exited the car, saying, "Stop worrying about me, focus on yourself and your issues, leave me the hell alone." Your mother sighed in defeat as she watched you exit the car. "Y-y/n" Your mother hesitated for a second, seeing you turn around in frustration, and then she cautiously added, "I-I love you" your mother waited for you to answer. You said as you began to walk away from the car and enter the school, "Yeah right, stop lying to fucking yourself" you scoffed. "Y/n, I-" Your mother was going to continue, but you interrupted her. "Fuck off, Get out of here! I don't care!" You shouted , drawing attention from others around you.

"Oh my gosh, do you see the way she speaks to her mom right now, she is so fucking disrespectful." One girl growled, glaring at you. "She is a bitch, I know that. She looked at you and said, "I feel horrible for her mom, poor thing." Another girl added. You rolled your eyes and began to walk away from the car again as you heard your mother drive away. "Okay then." Your mother said, attempting to contain her tears, "See you later sweetheart." Your mother whispered as she watched you walk away, eventually driving off. You were strolling along when a female suddenly stopped you and grinned at you. The girl grinned broadly and said, "Hey, you must be new here." "Oh right, who are you? can I help you?" You questioned, looking bewildered at the girl."No, I simply wanted to say hello. My name is Yuji, and what is yours?"Yuji extended her hand to you. "Uh" You stared at Yuji with curiosity, but quickly brushed it off and shook her hand. "My name is Y/n."

"It is nice to meet you, Y/n. Do you need any help? Are you lost? Yuji smiled kindly as she asked. "No, not really, I just need to find my locker." You responded, "No problem, I can help you look." She motioned for you to follow her into the school. "Uh, alright," you said, following behind Yuji."Why is Yuji talking to her?" one girl asked."I don't know, but Yuji better be careful, because I don't like nor trust that girl." The other girl replied. "Great, c'mon. I will help you get comfortable in your locker and then show you around the school before it starts, which is about an hour from now." "Do you know what your locker number is?"" Yuji asked."Yeah, if I remember correctly, my locker number is 108."You replied. "Oh my gosh, my locker is right next to yours, mine is locker 107!" Yuji screamed joyfully. "Oh good, at least I'll remember where my locker is now." you stated "Yep, so let us go get situated at our lockers then." Yuji declared. "All right." You responded, "Hmm, this school might not be that horrible after all." You whispered. "Did you say something?" Yuji asked looking at you with one of her eyebrows raised. "Um, no sorry." You quickly replied shaking your head. "Okay then, well here is our lockers, and do you know your class schedule?" Yuji questioned.

"I have it in my book bag; let me see which classes I have." You added. "Okay, while you are doing that, I will get my stuff from my locker." You nodded, digging into your bookbag for your schedule. "Here it is." You say holding up your class schedule. Yuji's face then began to brightened up when she took a glance at your schedule. "Oh my god!" Yuji squealed excitedly. "What?!" You quickly asked confusingly. "We share the same classes." Yuji said while pointing at the paper infront of her. "Really, let me look." You walked up next to Yuji to see what she was talking about. "Okay, I will get mine up on my phone." Yuji pulls out her phone and checks for her schedule. "Look, they are all the same." Yuji smiled at you. "Holy shit, they are the same; well at least I know one person in my classes now." You replied. "Yay I'm so happy." Yuji began jumping about with a big smile on her face, which made you smile.

"So, want to show me around now." You asked. "Yep, let's go we still have 55 minutes left." "Alright let's go then." You and Yuji started walking to different parts of the school. "So, this is the library." Yuji explained. "Woah It's nice in here." You bleated. "Yea but be careful because some students like to have "Fun" between the book cases" Yuji joked. "Oh, that's nasty." You cringed. "Yea but crazy thing is that the Librarian doesn't say anything, but theres are big reason why she doesn't." Yuji added. "So, you're telling me that the teachers are just basically nonchalant here." You chimed in. "Yep basically, but again theres a reason why, which I will tell you later when the time comes." Yuji hinted. You nodded at Yuji response while still looking in the library disgusted."Mhm well, let's go to our next destination." Yuji suggested as she began walking again. You and Yuji walk til you two come to a complete stop. "And this is the Gym, this is where girls love to watch a certain group of boys play basketball and workout while shirtless." Yuji stated. "I figured that was the case honestly." You responded. "Yep and across from us is the Storage closet and Im guessing you know what goes on in there huh." Yuji teased as she smirked at you. "Yep, you didn't even have to tell me." Both you and Yuji laughed and you two began walking down the hall and reached another room.

"And here Is my favorite class of all time" you and Yuji both looked at each other before saying in unison; "The Cafeteria."You two giggled while walking into the cafeteria. "So, where do you sit?" You glance at Yuji who happens to be staring at the floor. "Oh, I don't sit in the cafeteria since I have no one to sit with, I just grab my food and go eat in the school garden." Yuji sighed. "Well guess what." You chimed. "What is It?" Yuji looked asked taking her attention away from the floor to you. You looked at Yuji until she understood what you were talking about. "Really, you'll sit with me during lunch, oh my gosh, this is the best day ever!" Yuji jumped and giggled with happiness. "So, is the tour done or do we still have places to go to." You asked. "Just one more place then-".Yuji was cut off by loud girly screams coming from what sounded like the front of the school."Oh no." Yuji gasped. "What happened why are people screaming." You asked completely baffled. "They're here." you looked at Yuji's panicked face."Who?" You begged. "Come, I'll show you." Yuji said while proceeding to grab your hand and began running into the hallway.You and Yuji ran through the halls getting closer the screaming girls until you guys finally made it. "So, what in the hell are they screaming about." You spat while out of breath. Yuji pointed to the boys walking into the school.

"And who are they?" You questioned. "Your worse nightmare that's who." Yuji gulped. "So I'm guessing that everyone is like scared by these boys or something." You replied. "Damn right they are, even the teachers don't bother them because they're terrified." Yuji whispered. "Seriously?" you grumbled clearly irritated by the fact that people are actually afraid of these dumb boys. "So, who are they?" You asked. "They are called ATEEZ, it's like at least 8 guys all together I think." Yuji says whispering to you while she continuse to look at ATEEZ."Okay and so is this so called group of boys that you are referring to ?" You asked causing Yuji to look at you for a moment before turning and slighting pointing toward the direction of the boys."Yeah" You chuckled lightly. "And so people are like terrified of these guys is what you're telling me?" You asked while you surveyed the boys becoming completely unamused at the group of boys that were a few feet away from you."I mean well yeah Y/n, they're like extremely dangerous and scary, that's why no one messes with them." Yuji whispered.

"Wow, oh my gosh Yuji you're so right, they even look scary and dangerous" You teased. "Y/n im serious these guys are bad news alright and you should really-" Yuji urged before you cut her off. "Yeah yeah whatever, anyways what are their names?" You blurted."First, we have Hongjoong, the leader of Ateez. Although he may be short, he is incredibly violent. If anything happens to his friends, be warned that he will come for you. Once he has you, I fear that your fate is sealed." Yuji tensed as she gazed at Hongjoong."Then there's Seonghwa," Yuji said, pointing to a boy standing next to Hongjoong. "Seonghwa is just like Hongjoong; he's incredibly protective of his friends and will relentlessly pursue you if you even dare to harm them in any way, especially Hongjoong." "Next is Yunho," Yuji gestured toward the tall boy wearing a white shirt that is slightly squeezing his arm muscles with his hair also slick back, only having a few strands of hair covering his forehead. "Yunho is intimidating and threatening to other students, including myself. He is the tallest in the group, if I'm not mistaken."

"Then we have Yeosang. All of the girls fucking love him for his intimidating look, and it shows. I mean, look at them. They're literally drooling." Yuji points to a group of girls gawking at a boy leaning against the lockers with a toothpick hanging from his mouth. "Seriously, they're drooling and wetting their panties over that?" You cringed."Now right there is San. San is basically Satan. San is close to the same member as Yeosang, which is the one right beside San, and his name is Wooyoung.""Wooyoung is such a player; he plays with every girl's heart in this school. But San is a player also, so together they are the biggest players in the school." "Okay, and there is Mingi. Mingi is the one that Yunho is close to. Mingi is very scary when he's angry and even more scary when he yells. So, people avoid him because they think he'll kill someone if they are too close to him."

"Now lastly, is the youngest, Jongho. Jongho is very strong. He once got so pissed at some boy that he threw him across the cafeteria. And together they're ATEEZ." "Yea you didn't have to say it I already know."you replied causing Yuji to giggle. "Oh shit, we have 5 minutes we need to get to class."Yuji shook you lightly as she began walking. "Oh my god, why are you in such a hurry?" You raised your eyebrows. "Let's just say our math teacher loves giving out detentions." Yuji explained holding your arm signaling you to follow her. "Oh well shit, if that's the case then okay let's go to class." You began walking when suddenly Yuji pulled your arm slightly to her practically dragged you all the way to your class.

🥀

Three of your classes had soon went by and it was now lunch time. Both you and Yuji began walking when you saw a huge group of girls waiting excitedly next to a classroom while also looking inside of it. The girl then turned their focus from door to you and began whispering to each other. You snarled your lip ,flipped them off, then walked off making them look at you up and down and scoff. "Oh my god, I can't believe Yuji is hanging out with her." One girl whispered as she took disgusted glances at you. "I know, you should've seen what happened earlier" another girl gossiped "she was like yelling and cussing at her mom and shit, and I swear I saw her mom crying, that girl is fucking evil." the girl whispered.The others around her look at each other in shock but quickly lost their focus when door they were standing next opened revealing ATEEZ. They all squealed in unison as each boy exited the classroom and began to walk to the cafeteria in which the girls followed behind them.

You and Yuji finally able to get out of the lunch line proceeded to go find somewhere to sit. Eventually you two settled for a table in a corner located in the back of the cafeteria. You and Yuji sat down, but as you two were about to start talking to each other,  all of a sudden everyone in the cafeteria went quiet. When you and Yuji looked up, you saw that all the boys were coming into the cafeteria."Wow, everything goes quiet when they enter the cafeteria huh?" You glanced around the cafeteria watching everyone in complete silence as ATEEZ walks in. "Yea basically, but come we can't let the quiet atmosphere ruin our conversation. So, what school did you go to before this?" Yuji smiled sweetly while curiously waiting  for your answer. "A lot of them." You respond blankly. "What do you mean, did you move around a lot or something?" Yuji furrowed her eyebrows at you. "No, uh actually I got expelled like a lot, not... really proud of it" you played with your food trying your hardest to avoid eye contact with Yuji "It's kind of embarrassing actually." You shook your head in shame.

"Hey, we don't have to continue talking about this if you don't want to alright?" Yuji reaches out to lightly put her hand on your shoulder "Let's talk out something else yeah?" You looked up to stare at Yuji for a couples of seconds before giving her a small smile and nodded your head in response. "Thanks." You replied. "No problem girlie, if you're not comfortable talking about certain things or yourself that's completely fine with me, just know I'm here when you're ready babes." Yuji smiled as she playfully nudged your shoulder, causing the both of you to giggle.

You were cut off by a huge bang and then a male screaming in pain. You and Yuji quickly look over and saw Mingi putting some boys arm into an arm breaking position. "What the fuck did you just say to me motherfucker!?" Mingi's voice roared throughout the whole cafeteria, causing everyone to look in his direction."Nothing, i'm sorry please let go, you're hurting me man!" The poor boy Mingi was shouting at whined as his arm was being twisted around, looking as though it would break at any second."I don't give a fuck, what the fuck did you just say to me?!" You watched in disapproval at the scene in front of your, that poor  boy who now began to beg Mingi to let go of his arm was now wailing as his arm was being twisted around more by Mingi. You couldn't bear to watch this moment any longer, you needed to do something.

"Okay I can't stand this I'm stepping In." You stood up about to head toward the location of the horrid scene you and everyone else in the cafeteria watched when Yuji grabbed your wrist. "What?! Y/n no it's to dangerous sit back down." Yuji whined as she tried to pull down into your seat "To late I'm already up and walking." You wiggled your wrists out of Yuji's grip and began walking away from Yuji, who was clearly trying to stop you from getting hurt."Y-Y/n stop, please you don't know what you're about to get your self into!"

You began walking to the big scene across the cafeteria until you stopped right in front of Mingi and the boy. Mingi turned his attention away from the feeling your presence behind him. Mingi looked at you up and down with an agitated face clearly more pissed now that you interrupted him."The hell do you want can't you see I'm busy bitch." Mingi growled."Okay number one don't call me a bitch, bitch. Number two, don't fucking talk to me like that, and number three get the fuck off of him." Everyone looked at you with shocked while ATEEZ looked pissed off at you including Mingi. Then, Mingi slowly let go of the boy and pushed him away. The poor boy still on the floor scooted away before getting up and sitting back at the table with his friends to quickly comforted him while he held his arm close to his chest with tears in his eyes.

"Now, who in the hell do you think you're talking to little one." Mingi fumed. "You motherfucker, now what the fuck is your damn problem you psycho bitch." You hissed. "Watch your fucking mouth when you talk to me bitch." Mingi demanded. "Okay then..."You crossed your eyes while attempting to look at your mouth and began talking."Is this what you wanted, you bastard." Some people started giggling while others looked shocked, and thats when Mingi began walking closer to you.

"Oh you think you're so funny don't you bitch?" Mingi chuckled angrily as he stooped down to your high, now causing you and Mingi to be face to face. "Yes very, why? got a problem with that dick head huh, can't handle it?" As soon as you said that Yunho got up and walked up to you and Mingi. "Fuck off bitch, go sit the fuck down somewhere." Yunho ordered. "Shut the fuck up, no one was talking to you." San then got up and walked towards you. "Leave now or you'll regret it, I swear to god you'll fucking regret it." San threatened. "Shut It bitch." You laughed at San, everyone in the cafeteria gasped, and that's when the rest of Ateez stood up and were now in front of you staring you down like they were going to murder you.

"Listen, bitch I don't know who the hell you think you are but-" You cut off San. "Shut up you dick, no one was speaking to you." Wooyoung quickly coming to San's rescue started to walk up to you."You have 5 seconds to go the fuck back where you came from or I swear I'm gonna light your ass on fire." Wooyoung taunted you, in which you giggled while looking at Wooyoung. "Be quiet shrimp dick." Out of no where you heard another voice behind you. "Hey, go sit the fuck down and leave us alone." Yeosang instructed. "Shut up you go sit down get the hell out of my face." You rolled your eyes.

"Leave. Now." Jongho commanded. "Fuck. Off." You mocked with your hands now on your hips. "You're fucking dead bitch." Wooyoung laugh maniacally as he pointed as he signaled his friends to back off. "Ooo, I'm so scared." You waved your hands in the air before rolling yours eyes as you walked away heading back to your table where Yuji watched you in shock as you walked up to her.

"Y/n are you crazy, do you know what you just did?" Yuji whispered with her wide eyes glazing at you intensely "Yes and Yes, anyway come on some we can go to our next class." You walked off to leave the cafeteria until you turned around and waved your middle finger that the boys smiling mischievously, in return they smirked and looked at one another.

🥀

You were in the gym playing basketball by yourself when you felt someone looking at you, so you quickly turned around and look at the door but there was no one there, so you shrugged it off and made you last shot before go to change back Into your clothes. Once you were done getting dressed, you headed out of the gym and into the hallway and out the school doors.

You began walking home you felt like someone was watching again, so you turned around only to see no one there, but then you turned back around to start walking again, you were grabbed and slammed into the wall by Mingi. "What the hell asshole?!" You yelled. "Watch your mouth when you talk to me." Mingi scolded. "No dickhead what in the fuck are you doing." Tried to wiggle out of Mingi's but it was no use. "We're here to warn your ass about what gonna happen to you now since you thought it was funny to start fucking with me and my goddamn friends you bitch." Mingi smirked while looking down at you. "Wow you came to try and terrify me about you're gonna do to me or something?" You bursted into laughter until Mingi cut you off. "You think this shit is a joke little girl, but you really don't know what we're capable of doing to you."

"What, are you gonna write scary messages on my locker and desks, send me text messages threatening me, or follow me everywhere I go? Listen I'm not scared of you and your friends so you can cut the bullshit if you really think for a second that you can scare me bitch. Now get the hell away from me." As you tried to get away from Mingi, he grabbed you and slammed back again the wall. "What we're gonna do to you is so far more worse, and If you don't believe me then just you fucking wait , you shouldn't have fucked with us." Mingi let you go and walked away, you scoffed and watched as he disappeared out of your sight.

🥀

You arrived home and saw your mom sleeping on the couch, but it looked like she was crying which made you concerned. But then you saw a letter on the coffee table with your name on it, so picked it up and read it.

"Y/n, You dinner Is the microwave If you want to eat It sweetheart and it your favorite dish I'm hoping you'll eat this time instead of starving yourself, which makes me really worried for you Y/n. I hope you had a great day school."

Love Mommy ♡

You rolled eye as you folded the letter and put it back on the table and went straight upstairs without eating your food.

🥀

You were laying in bed on your phone when you got a message from an unknown person.

Unknown: Watch your back bitch.😈

You thought about who could have sent you this message until It finally hit you. "Those assholes."

🥀

𝐴𝐿𝐿 𝑅𝐼𝐺𝐻𝑇𝑆 𝑅𝐸𝑆𝐸𝑅𝑉𝐸𝐷 𝐹𝑂𝑅 𝑁𝑂𝐼𝑅𝐸-𝑋𝑋. 𝐷𝑂 𝑁𝑂𝑇 𝑆𝑇𝐸𝐴𝐿, 𝐶𝑂𝑃𝑌, 𝑂𝑅 𝐶𝐿𝐴𝐼𝑀 𝑀𝑌 𝑊𝑂𝑅𝐾 𝐴𝑆 𝑌𝑂𝑈𝑅 𝑂𝑊𝑁.