tulip-fiction

[tulip-fiction]

All the spoiler and trigger warnings you would expect from episode 12 of Begins ≠ Youth.

Sorry. This is all sadness and no comfort. You've been warned. I couldn’t stop thinking about Cein in that last episode. I knew what was going to happen, but it was so painful to watch. This is an expanded scene. Read at your own risk.

Tired - Begins ≠ Youth

Fan fiction

Cein was so tired. He had been tired for so long that he didn’t even remember any other feeling. So he slept, as often as he could, but it never helped.

Today, the exhaustion was unbearable. It was deeper than his bones. His core. His entire being. As he sat on the edge of a bed staring at the photo of his mom, Cein was too tired to feel anything but exhaustion.

Cein traced his mom’s face with his thumb. It was the only photo he had saved. He had burned the rest years ago when he had said goodbye to this place. But he kept this one, the one of him and his mom, before she had been too tired to force a smile.

He never forced himself to smile. He had tried for his mother’s sake, and for a short time after she died, he had tried for his father. But that had proven to be too much of an effort. And after a short time, his father stopped trying to spend time with him and put them both out of their misery.

There had been moments years ago when a smile would bloom from somewhere inside him that he hadn’t known existed. Spontaneous moments filled with laughter. Initially, the smiles had taken him by surprise. They had felt unfamiliar and a little uncomfortable. But the more time he had spent with his classmates, goofing off in detention, parties in the container, hours spent at the beach, the more he had expected and anticipated those moments of joy. They had recharged him like little batteries. And even though the exhaustion had always returned, he had found himself looking forward to the moments where existing didn’t feel so hard.

After the move, the days had repeated on an endless loop of numb persistence. For his father’s sake, Cein had forced himself to get up every morning. He went to school. Worked part time. Did his chores. And made sure there was always dinner for his father when he got home. He made himself endure no matter how tired he was because he didn’t want to leave his father alone. But now Cein knew it had all been for nothing.

For a brief moment, the weight of everything had lightened just enough for Cein to feel again. When Hwan had shown up that day, Cein had smiled for the first time in two years. But seeing the crew, spending time together laughing again, it made the exhaustion all the harder to bare when the full weight of it returned.

When Cein’s father had unburdened himself tonight, the weight of his words had crushed Cein. He hadn’t been able to move when his father walked away from him. He had just stood there, the effort of each breath all he could manage.

His feet had brought him back to this neighborhood on autopilot and Cein had found himself standing outside Hwan’s family home. His hands shook as he pushed the call button and held the phone to his ear. But with each ring, the weight of reality grew.

After the tone, please leave a message. Click.

Cein’s hand fell limply to his side, too empty to try to call anyone else. Hwan had been right to fear having his call unanswered. There had been hope and desperation in that phone call, and now Cein could no longer deny that he was alone.

Cein wanted to crawl into bed, to let go of the effort it took to be conscious, so he had come to this hotel seeking a place shut his eyes. Now sitting here, he felt too tired to even sleep. He was tired of it all. Everything took effort and he had nothing left to give. His friends, his memories of his mother, the lighter, even this photo he held in his hand felt like a million pounds. It was all too much and he didn’t want to hold on to any of it anymore.

His thumb struck the lighter and the familiar light flickered to life. He held the photo over the flame and watched it consume his mother’s smile. With immense effort, Cein forced himself to his feet to drop the flaming photo into the trash.

Cein watched with detached numbness as the photo floated to the floor. He knew he should do something. Anything. Reach down and grab it. Stomp the flames out with his boot. Run. But all of that require an energy Cein didn’t possess.

He watched the flames climb the curtain, slowly moving away from the growing heat. He moved back to the edge of the bed and let the weight of his body carry him to the floor. Cein knew part of him should be screaming to run. To save himself. He searched for any fragment of himself that wanted to survive, but that part of him must be tired too because it was silent. So instead, he sat and watched the flames spread.

Even as the heat grew, the exhaustion won. Cein had made his decision, he was too tired to try any more. And as he sat there, knowing this would be his final moments, the weight lifted and Cein smiled.

[tulip-fiction]

All my writing so far has been sad and angsty because it was my outlet for processing my emotions over the story/characters. But I really wanted to write something more fun and fluffy and I liked the idea of Jooan getting a gift for Dogeon. It was fun writing this, but it still made me sad because of what happens between them later in the show. I hope you enjoy it.

Bunny Apples - Begins ≠ Youth

Fan fiction

No content warning, all fluff and fun.

Jooan knew it was stupid to waste money on plastic fruit picks, but when he had seen them in the window of the specialty store, he couldn’t help himself. He wouldn’t even have known what they were if Dogeon hadn’t showed him the one he got from Jeha’s house. So the moment he saw them, he knew he had to buy them for Dogeon.

Now Jooan was hunched over the kitchen table, a bunch of ruined apples the result of his efforts. The videos he watched had made it look so easy, but the art of making apples into little bunnies was proving to have a bit of a learning curve. Jooan smiled as he inspected his current attempt. This one was good enough to put on the plate he would bring to Dogeon.

Listening to Dogeon explain about the little bunny shaped apples Jeha’s mom had served had left Jooan confused. Finding pictures of the carved apples online had only added to the ridiculous idea. It had been impossible for him to picture a mom spending time making fruit cute just so it could be chewed up. But as he cut another apple into slices for his Hyung, Jooan thought he now understood why a mom would labor away just to see the smile on their child’s face.

That’s why Jooan had to buy the little fruit picks that day. The idea of Dogeon’s smile had inspired this entire project. Dogeon and Jooan didn’t have parents that did these things for their kids, but they could do these things for each other.

Jooan still had happy memories of his family before things had fallen apart. He remembered helping his mom crack eggs into a bowl while they made his birthday cake together, his dad singing as he hung the laundry on the line to dry, and his sister laying on the floor, mindlessly humming along while she did her homework. But that was so long ago and as time wore on, these fading memories were beginning to feel more like the imagination of a young child. His family had shattered, his mom and sister both gone, and his dad barely alive. This was the family Jooan was born into, and they had left him alone. But Dogeon had always been there for him. Dogeon was the family he had chosen.

A sense of pride washed over Jooan as he placed the last little bunny on the plate. His dad stumbled over just as Jooan finished putting the fruit picks in place.

“What’s this,” he slurred reaching for one of Dogeon’s apples.

Jooan slapped his hand away. “Those are for you,” he gestured to the pile of mutilated rejects.

“What did you do to these?” his dad asked inspecting a lumpy, half-peeled chunk of apple. “Is this blood?”

“Oh just eat them,” Jooan ordered while he carefully covered his gift with plastic wrap. He quickly placed them in a bag and rushed out the door.

Jooan was excited to bring his Hyung a gift. To thank Dogeon for always being there for him when things went sideways. It had been Dogeon that he had run to the first time his dad had hit him. Hyung had held ice to his cheek while Jooan wept uncontrollably in his lap. After that, there were countless nights that Jooan had shown up, unexpected and broken. Dogeon welcomed him in every time without question or hesitation. Dogeon always made room for him, giving Jooan the space and time he needed until he was strong enough to go home again.

He didn’t know exactly when it had happened, but somewhere along the way, they had become family to each other. Dogeon was everything Jooan needed in an older brother. Safety. Stability. Comfort. Understanding. Jooan was the younger brother that admired his Hyung. And unlike Dogeon’s real brother, he listened to him and didn’t cause trouble, most of the time anyway. Today, he was the little brother that made bunnies out of apple slices.

Jooan was beaming from ear to ear when Dogeon answered the door. “I brought you something!” he blurted out excitedly, thrusting the bag out in front of him.

“Uh, hi,” Dogeon said confused by this unexpected announcement. “What’s this?” he asked taking the package from Jooan.

“I made it,” Jooan announced proudly as Dogeon unwrapped the plate.

A burst of laughter erupted from Dogeon when he saw his gift. “You made these?” he choked, his smile matching Jooan’s. “Thanks kid,” Dogeon said, ruffling his head. “You staying?”

Jooan nodded and followed Dogeon into the container where they sat down to share the apples together. Dogeon picked up the first apple and gave Jooan’s handy work a proper amount of respect before popping it in his mouth.

“Cute,” Dogeon praised through a mouth full of apple, handing one to Jooan. “I had no idea you could carve apples into beetles."

An apple hung limply from Jooan’s gaping mouth as he stared in horror at Dogeon. In a flash of irritation, Jooan about snatched the plate away from him. But as he watched Dogeon examine another apple with a fond smile on his face, Jooan smiled in return. Sure, he had made his Hyung beetle apples.

[tulip-fiction]

❤️

can you believe that we have fanfiction. that we have websites dedicated to fanfiction. that there is a place that you can go and read tens, hundreds, thousands and thousands of pieces of writing that strangers have made. people who are not "writers". people who come home at the end of the day and have feelings and say, i am going to put that into words. i am going to share those words. short, long, sweet, sad, horny, funny, wonderful words. we are all just human and we all love to make and remake and share that with others. can you believe that.

[tulip-fiction]

Dang it. I was actually doing better about not obsessing over Begins ≠ Youth, but then I was listening to Angel pt. 2 (over and over again on repeat because that’s what I do when I get a song stuck in my head) and the lyrics kept making me think about Cein and Jeha. I didn’t want to write another sad scene inspired by Begins ≠ Youth, but I couldn’t help it. These freaking characters and their tragic stories just won’t let me go.

Fan Fiction

Content warning: Begins ≠ Youth damage, if you know you know, if you don’t, don’t read.

Breaking Beautiful Things - Begins ≠ Youth

Cein placed the last photo into the fire. He watched it all burn away to nothing. It seemed fitting to burn it all here, in the home he had once shared with his mother. He would let it all go. Maybe leaving was exactly what he needed. Maybe his wounds could heal if he stopped picking at this scab.

Cein sat there until the flames had died and the ashes cooled. It was time to say goodbye. Goodbye to this place and all the pain it held for him.

The floor creaked and Cein spun to find Jeha entering. “Hyung, I finally found you.”

Cein turned his back to Jeha. “Leave,” he commanded sternly.

“You wouldn’t answer my calls or messages,” Jeha continued, ignoring Cein’s order.

“Then I will leave,” Cein turned toward the door.

Jeha stepped between Cein and the door. “You would leave without saying goodbye?” Jeha asked, the pain clear in his voice. But Cein would not meet his eyes and just stepped around him.

“Wait!” Jeha pleaded, falling to his knees and resting his forehead against the charred floor in a bow, words flooding from his mouth, “I know you are angry with me. It’s all my fault that you are being transferred. But please,” Jeha begged, “give me a chance fix this. I’ll tell them what really happened.”

“What really happened?” Cein repeated bitterly, spinning to face Jeha. “What really happened Jeha? I hit you. With a brick. That’s what really happened.”

“But it was my fault,” Jeha protested, raising his head to look up at Cein, tears streaming down his cheeks. “It was my fault you were here. My fault Mingook went after you.”

“I hit you Jeha! That blood,” Cein yelled, pointing at the stain they both refused to look at, “that is there because of me!”

“But you didn’t mean to hit me! That was my fault too! Not yours! You were going to hit Mingook, but I got in the way. He thinks I did it to protect him. Thinks I care for him and he’s indebted to me,” Jeha laughed hysterically, tears blurring his vision. “But the joke is on him because I didn’t do it for him, I did it for you Hyung. You’d be in prison right now if you had hit Mingook and I couldn’t let that happen. Not because of me.”

“And you think that somehow makes it better?” Cein snapped, the edge in his voice sharp and resentful. “Am I supposed to be grateful Jeha? How am I supposed to feel knowing you did this to protect me? I’d rather be in prison than have to live knowing that I hurt you. Now I can’t look at you without seeing you crumpled on the floor, bleeding.”

They both stayed motionless, Jeha’s quiet weeping and Cein’s heavy breathing the only sounds in the stillness. “I can still fix this,” Jeha said weakly, staring down at his hands that hadn’t left the floor.

Cein spoke softer, the anger dissolved into pain. “Stop protecting me and focus on protecting yourself.”

Cein turned once more to leave, but a timid hand reached out to feebly grasp his pant leg. “Please, don’t leave me,” Jeha whispered shakily. “I love you Hyung.”

“Don’t love me,” Cein replied coldly, masking the shattering he felt inside. “People that love me break.”

Cein pulled his leg free and took another step toward the door. He couldn’t let Jeha see the tears that had escaped his eyes.

“I need you,” Jeha called desperately, his crying intensifying with panic, but unable to move from where he knelt on the floor.

Cein clenched his fists, fighting the urge to scoop up this broken boy in his arms. To tell him he love him too. But he knew if he allowed himself to do that, he’d never be able to let go. And he had already done enough damage. He had to get Jeha away from him before he ruined someone else.

“You are confusing what you need with what you want. You don’t need me. You need to take care of yourself. You need to study. To make your mother and step father happy. You need to protect yourself from being hurt. By me, Mingook, even yourself. You need to live Jeha.”

“I can’t say goodbye,” Jeha choked.

“I can,” Cein said, telling himself as much as Jeha. “Goodbye Jeha. Take care of yourself. Eat well. Live happily.”

At that, Cein left, without allowing himself one last glance back at his misguided protector. The little brother that wanted to be the hyung. He feared seeing the pain in Jeha’s eyes would risk cracking his resolve and he couldn’t afford to let that happen. He knew he had hurt Jeha just now, but this was a wound he could forgive himself for inflicting.

Cein would never forgive himself for hitting Jeha, intentional or not. And Jeha’s confession had only made Cein hate himself more for being the reason Jeha had put himself in harms way. Cein should have kept Jeha at arms length. He had been a fool for thinking they could be each other’s family.

Cein knew the damage family could do to each other and still he had used Jeha’s love as a bandage for his own wounds. But he wouldn’t be selfish any more. Even if he would never say it out loud, Cein loved Jeha. That was why he'd cut Jeha free before there was no hope of healing from the wounds. He wouldn’t scar Jeha the way his mother had scarred him.

Cein would walk away from this life. From Jeha. He deserved far worse than being alone. Still, Cein could take comfort in the fact that Jeha’s life would be better now. His step father was finally giving Jeha the acceptance he desperately needed, even if he tried to convince himself he didn’t. And Mingook wouldn’t dare to hurt Jeha ever again. Jeha would finally have the family he had given up on. Jeha’s wounds would heal and he would live. That was enough for Cein.

——

Jeha cried until numbness replaced the pain. His face was streaked with black ash where he had wiped away countless tears. His entire body felt heavy with exhaustion. Or maybe it was resolve. Hyung had left. He was gone. And Jeha had no more tears. All that was left was a key Cein had discarded the same way he had Jeha.

[tulip-fiction]

Insert shameless plug

WHERE ARE THE BEGINS ≠ YOUTH FICS, I NEED THEM 😭

[tulip-fiction]

Fan Fiction

Content warning: mental health, hearing voices, toxic parent

Alone - Begins ≠ Youth

Takes place on the way to Haru's appointment in episode 3 (around 31 min mark)... tag me if you find a GIF of the fake crying and then when Haru drops the act!

Haru could feel his stomach twisting in on itself. He was on his way to another psychiatric appointment to check on his progress and medication dosage. He wasn’t on edge about his appointment though. He was never nervous about talking to the doctors, he’d told the lies so many times before that they come easy now. But that voice, it doesn’t lie, and the words it whispers to him scare Haru.

Everything was all falling apart again. The truth he was always running from had found that video. Hosu had seen the comments and already Hosu was pulling away. Haru had known all along that his friends weren’t really his friends. It was all a lie, like everything else. They didn’t even know him. And as soon as they learned the truth of who he was, they would run from him like everyone else had. And he’d be alone. Again.

Haru shook his head and grabbed his ears, but he couldn’t block that voice. It wouldn’t let him lie to himself. The truth was that he was already alone. He’d been alone ever since that day. But he was having so much fun pretending the lie was real, so he would keep pretending he had friends as long as it lasted.

Haru’s mom watched him in the rearview mirror. “I know you’re disappointed about not going with us to the United States. We will all do something fun together this summer when your brother comes home.”

More lies. He’d be in the hospital again over summer break. They both knew it.

The lies hadn’t stopped for 7 years. That day Haru got lost was the first time he was aware of being alone and the crushing terror of that feeling. He had wanted nothing more than to be safe in his mother’s arms. To have her squeeze him so he could feel her with him even when his eyes were closed. But that initial safety he felt when they were reunited was an illusion. He would always be alone after that day.

Haru’s mother had rushed to his side, tears of relief in her eyes. He wished he could go back to that day, when he believed her tears were proof of her love for him. When he had believed the lie. She hadn’t loved him, she loved being seen as the caring mother. She loved when everyone saw the lie and believe it to be true. So she wept and rushed him off before he could find the strength to stop his tears and tell anyone about the horrors he had seen.

Even when little Haru was home safe and dry, warm in his bed, his tears hadn’t stopped. They had slowed, falsely comforted by his mother’s presence at his side, but they continued to leak from his eyes even after they had long closed from the weight of the day.

Haru had woken with a scream the next morning. His mother appeared by his side and told him he was safe. Believing her, he told her about the monster in the arboretum and the child he had trapped.

Young Haru had been confused by her reaction. At first he thought she was scared for what had happened to him, her hand over her mouth and her eyes wide. But he reassured her that the man hadn’t hurt him, his cuts and scrapes were from falling when he ran away. But she just sat there, staring at him.

When her eyes eventually softened, and her hand placed calmly in her lap, she finally spoke. “Haru, it was only a bad dream. You are just a normal boy that got lost in the woods. You were scared. Anything else you imagined is not real.”

Young Haru had believed that lie. Or at least, he had wanted to. How could his young mind imagine that his mother would lie to him? Even now he didn’t understand the lie. He didn’t know that his mother had read about the missing boy in the paper. How the parents had been scrutinized and questioned. That she and others had judged the parents for every misstep they had ever made. But even if he didn’t understand the reason for the lies, he knew the truth now, that she had lied to protect herself and the lies would never end.

Haru had believed the lie for as long as he could, but the truth found him shortly after on the city bus. That monster in his nightmare had gotten on the bus and looked right at him. That moment, his world shattered. That was the first time he heard the voice. It had told him to run. To live. But he had frozen, too scared to even breath, and that was his first trip to the hospital.

But the lies hadn’t stopped. His mother wouldn’t let him speak the truth and Haru had been alone ever since.

“Your appointment won’t take long, it’s only a quick follow up,” Haru’s mother said. “Just tell the doctor how well you’re doing. That nothing has changed. Your memories haven’t returned. Your medication is working and you feel normal. When you’re done, I’ll drop you off at school so you can see your friends.”

Haru nodded and gave a reassuring smile. He wondered if these were the lies she believed herself. Or did she also have a voice that whispered the truth to her? She was always angry when the truth surfaced. She’d drop the act of pretending to love him and the cruel honesty would slip from her mouth. That she was exhausted by him and this life. But those moments were the only times Haru understood his mother. He knew the exhaustion well.

So many lies. Each one an impossible weight.

He had no memories. Lie.

His medication was working. Lie.

He was fine. Lie.

His family loved him. Lie.

He had friends. Lie.

He wasn’t alone. Lie.

He was living a normal life. Lie. This wasn’t living.

This wasn’t living, but it was the only life Haru had and he wanted to live so bad, so he would pretend this was living. He’d never give up, no matter how exhausted he was from running from the truth.

Haru slumped against the car window, his exhaustion in this moment felt unbearable. Haru wanted the lies to stop. He wanted to be free of the weight of them. But he would bare it because speaking the truth meant all the lies would be exposed. Everyone would know. Then they would leave, like they always did, and he’d have to face the truth that he was alone.

So instead, Haru would lie like he always did. Then he’d go back to school and be with his friends. Even if those friendships were a lie, he could pretend he wasn’t alone when he was with them, and sometimes he actually believed it. So he’d hold on to them as long as he could, even if it wouldn’t last. Even when the voice whispered the truth in his ear. Even if he would always eventually have to admit that he was alone.

[tulip-fiction]

Tulip Fan Fiction

I couldn't stop thinking about Begins ≠ Youth, so I had to write my first fan fiction to cope. We will see if any more follow.

You can also find me on Tumblr at:

@hangrytulip

@btstulip

AO3: HangryTulip

[tulip-fiction]

Fan Fiction

Content Warning: depression, toxic family, implied suicidal thoughts

Poison – Begins ≠ Youth

Jeha groggily opened his eyes, blinking away the sleep until the weight of them lightened. The container was quiet, everyone else still asleep after staying up late celebrating Cein’s birthday, followed by Hosu’s.

Jeha lay motionless in the bed, careful not to disturb Cein. Jeha had crawled into the bed next to him in the early hours before morning, Cein sighing loudly before making room for Jeha. Now, with the morning sun shining through the window, they lay facing each other, one awake and watching, one asleep and unaware.

Jeha watched his Hyung sleep. He thought Cein looked tired even now, shadows painted beneath his closed eyes. But they looked soft and without the weight Jeha normally found there. Jeha remembered a time when Cein looked less worn, but there had been darkness in those eyes even then.

6 Years Ago

Jeha squatted in the alley alongside the piano academy, his face buried in his arms. He knew Teacher would be disappointed if he didn’t warm up before his lesson, but he couldn’t go in there yet, not until he stopped crying.

“You’re in First Grade now. You’re too old to cry,” Jeha told himself in frustration wiping snot from his face.

Jeha wouldn’t let his parents see him cry. He didn’t want them to know how sad he was that he had to stop piano lessons. His dad was sick and they needed money for his medical treatments. Piano lessons would have to wait, but mom had promised him he could go again once dad was better, so he shouldn’t be crying.

“What’s wrong?” a voice called out to him.

Jeha shot up in embarrassment at being caught by Teacher’s son.

“Are you crying?” Cein asked.

“No!” Jeha protested, moving to wipe his eyes. But before he could, Cein grabbed his hand.

“Stop with the mask. Don’t pretend to be okay when you’re not. Let your tears out,” Cein commanded gently without meeting his eyes. “If you don’t let your sadness out, it will poison you from the inside, killing you slowly until there is nothing left to live for.”

Jeha stared at the older boy, his wrist still held in the boy’s larger hand. Then the dam broke and Jeha began to heave big, heavy sobs. Cein loosened his grip and Jeha threw his arms around Cein’s waist and cried.

Jeha didn’t know how long he cried, but slowly the sadness lifted. It was still there. He was still heartbroken to stop his piano lessons. He still felt scared at the concerned faces on the adults around him and the way his dad looked after his coughing episodes. But those feelings weighed less now, no longer demanding to erupt from him.

The tears stopped first, then his breathing slowed and became steady. “Are you ready to go in now?” Cein asked.

Jeha nodded with his face still buried in Cein’s now damp shirt. Cein patted his head and then gently took a step back from Jeha. He bent over and searched Jeha’s face for the answer to an unasked question and then nodded in return.

Cein led the way into the academy, and Jeha took his place at the piano and began his practice. He always got stuck in the same place in this new song. His fingers just wouldn’t move right.

“Like this,” Cein said coming over to stand behind Jeha. He reached his arms over Jeha’s shoulders and placed his hands so his fingers rested softly on top the smaller set. Then Cein rhythmically repeated the part over and over again until Jeha’s fingers took over leading the movement. Cein slowly lifted his hands until breaking contact, Jeha continued on his own.

“Great job both of you,” Teacher praised walking into the room.

Cein joined his mother at the side of the piano. Jeha watched Teacher pat Cein on the head the same way Cein had patted him in the alley. “Maybe one day you will take over as teacher when I am gone,” she smiled and Cein smiled back. But Jeha saw that neither smile reached their eyes. It was something he started noticing when his parents’ smiles had changed after his dad became sick.

“Jeha, I heard this will be your last lesson for a while. Why don’t we celebrate your hard work with a concert of your favorite songs for Cein and me?” Teacher purposed.

Jeha smiled and nodded with excitement, but before he could begin, Cein started biting his nails and his mom tisked. “Stop that. You won’t have any fingers left if you don’t stop eating them,” Teacher scolded. “Go ahead and warm up Jeha, I’ll be back in a minute. And you,” Teacher said pointing at Cein, “Keep your fingers out of your mouth until I get back with the bitter paint.”

Cein dropped his hands to his side and looked at the floor, his chewed thumb tucked inside a clenched fist. Jeha only dared to look for a quick second, but he thought he could see tears in those eyes. Tears that Hyung was not allowing to come out.

Present Day

Jeha looked at Hyung’s nails, chewed so short that the skin was torn and red, dried blood crusted at the edges of the shortest ones. Jeha looked at his own nails, rough and jagged from biting them. He wondered if his would be that bad if he wasn’t always being scolded. Cein no longer had someone to scold him and coat his nails with bitter paint. Then his eyes lit up with an idea.

Jeha controlled his excitement as he slowly sat up and slid from the bed, wary of waking Cein. Moving quietly to his backpack, he sifted through it until he found the liquid paper and the pen he had been searching for. Jeha had wanted to get Hyung a birthday present just from him, but he had already given the group all the money he had and he didn’t dare to steal any more from step-father. So this was perfect. Now he only hoped Cein really was a deep sleeper and not faking all those naps while they goofed off in the detention room.

Jeha held his breath when he painted the first nail. By the second one, he was brave enough to hold the finger he was painting. When Cein’s breath stayed steady and unchanged, Jeha was convinced that he was a deep sleeper and picked up Cein’s hand in his.

Jeha knew he should go home, but he wasn’t ready to yet. He still wasn’t over yesterday’s blowup with him mom. He wasn’t worried about getting in trouble for staying out all night. He didn’t even care if he was. But he knew his mom would be worried and he wasn’t done hurting her.

Yesterday

Jeha sat quietly, taking small bites of his breakfast, even though his appetite was gone. Step-father hadn’t even talked to him for the entire meal. He was too busy talking to his son, Mingook.

“Jeha’s grades are improving. He’s working hard with his new tutor,” Mom informed Step-father, trying to gain some approval for her son.

“Oh yeah? That’s good,” Step-father said without looking at him. “Once you have the discipline to study on your own like your brother, we won’t have to waste money on a tutor.”

Jeha put his utensil down, done pretending to eat. He hated this family. Sitting at this table, while this man went on and on about his golden son Mingook, his mother begging for scraps of his love, pleading with her eyes for Jeha to say or do something that would magically get Step-father to look at him, was unbearable. Jeha didn’t know who he hated more; the people he sat with or himself for biting his nails to stay silent.

Step-father finally looked up and Jeha froze, unable to drop his hand from his mouth even though he knew he should. “How many times do I have to tell you to stop with that disgusting habit of yours? Leave the table.”

“Yes sir,” Jeha said and quickly removed himself, a smile spreading across his face as he left the room.

It wasn’t long before his mother entered with a small bowl of rice. “Did you get enough to eat?”

“I’m fine,” Jeha answered coldly without looking up from his homework.

“Why do you have to provoke him Jeha?”

“Like it would matter.”

“Just try harder.”

“Try harder? Are you serious?” Jeha snapped bitterly, slamming his pencil down on his desk. “I did try. I did everything. For years. I played the perfect son. Put on a mask. Hid every part of myself that you asked me to hide. But it didn’t matter. I still wasn’t good enough for him. He didn’t care. And now neither do I.”

“Then at least try for me,” his mother begged.

Jeha turned and met those pleading eyes with his stony glare. “I already told you, I don’t care anymore.”

Present Day

Jeha didn’t feel anything as he thought back to yesterday. There was no sadness, and even his anger seemed more like an idea than a feeling. There were no tears he held back, those had stopped long ago. Cein had been right. Wearing a mask, holding in his sadness, it had poisoned him and he wasn’t even sure he was still alive.

Not long ago, Jeha had believed he didn’t care about anything anymore. He didn’t care about the way his Step-father treated him. He didn’t care about his mother’s tears. And he stopped caring about living long ago. But sitting here, the final nail painted with black and white piano keys, Jeha realized that he cared about seeing Hyung smile.

A tear slipped down Jeha’s cheek and a soft smile spread across his face as he looked from Cein to each of his sleeping companions. His gaze settled back on Cein, still looking peaceful in his sleep. It was nice to see that familiar emptiness wiped from Hyung’s face. Cein was poisoned just like he was, and maybe Cein had stopped living too. But as Jeha sat looked at that face, there was a tiny, scared piece of him that was starting to believe that they might be able to find a way back to the living together.

Thank you @raplinenthusiasts for the AMAZING GIFs!