~ 320 F, La Grande Maison, Haenan Acropolis: Apartment Complex, Itaewon-dong, Yongsan-gu, Seoul
Wookyung was back in Mideum manor, his childhood home. He subconsciously clutched his head in pain as he felt the sheets suffocate him. He had been tossing for hours now. His mind was sinking into the worst parts of his subconscious. It was happening all over again.
The walls looked tall again as he gleefully dragged his hand along them, chasing somebody running far ahead of him, the sounds of their footsteps echoing along the corridor "You can't catch me!" a familiar, raspy, voice shouted out and Wookyung only chased him down harder, unwilling to lose their little game.
Everything around him was back to its older state. "Mideum", in all its sprawling grandeur, looked harmless again. When he was happy, too young to fight with his father every day when Ryeo was his part-time teacher and storyteller and his mother looked much healthier. It was a place people visited with good intentions.
Wookyung felt exhausted. After running laps yet being unable to catch up to the voice, he realised he was running in circles. He paused, sweating profusely "I can't run any longer!" he announced, putting his hands on his knees. He wasn't in his house anymore. Where were they?
"Hyung?" he called out, slightly scared of the new, unfamiliar place. He felt bramble crunch under his little shoes and he looked around in fear, his shiny, neatly parted hair growing askew in the eerie draft. Everything looked darker, stranger, and dead. "H-Hyung... I'm scared" Wookyung called out, waiting for an answer.
"Wookyung, do you love me?" a whispery, fluttery voice asked in the distance and Wookyung quickly turned towards the voice, feeling relieved "Yes I love you Hyung! Please help me!!" he called for him. "And you promised to find me wherever I was... didn't you?" came the reply.
"Home??" the voice laughed thinly "I brought you to our playground Wookyung" he heard a rustle in the distance, seeing the smokey outline of a hideous tree, a small, frail figure peeking at him from the side "Come with me" the figure reached out with a white hand with pale fingers.
Wookyung immediately stood up, feeling his shorts getting ripped on the rough branches, running as fast as he could towards his Hyung, more out of fear than anything "Wait for me!" he shouted despite getting more and more hurt as the ground sunk under him, the thorns growing higher and sharper.
"Come to me!" he heard him and felt more determined, fighting the ghostly hands that had started reaching out to him from the mist, the vines were starting to wrap around his legs tighter "No!!! I can't! it hurts too much..." he struggled, reaching closer and closer to the tree "I don't want to hurt!!" tears warmed his little face.
"So you think you're hurting?" the voice twisted menacingly, sounding like rusted nails in a box "Do you know who's hurting more? Who's always hurting more? Even after all this while?" he sounded mad, angry, even... aroused. Wookyung had finally come closer despite the hindrances.
The moment he put a hand out on the trunk of the tree he felt his body grow cold, only his eyes following the streak cracking out from behind the tree, blasting out at him from the side like a jack-in-the-box. His eyes widened in fear and his throat closed. Everything was happening so fast.
Like a burning monster in the darkness, a disfigured body jumped out at him. Burning scraps of cloth flapping away from a vaguely human-looking body, large bulbous eyes, knife slit mouth, and ashy, flowing hair. "YOU DON'T HAVE THE RIGHT TO SAY YOU HURT!!! I HURT MORE THAN YOU!! DO YOU KNOW THAT?"
"I WILL ALWAYS HURT MORE!!!!" he howled and Wookyung's eyes glistened as he could only stare back at the horror unfolding before him. He couldn't breathe, he couldn't move, his legs were soldered to the ground and his mouth opened in what seemed like a frozen scream.
Shhh, he heard from somewhere in the skies above him and everything fell away. The darkness, the mist, and the thorns. the horrid creature cowered, backing off, slowly fading away into nothingness. Baby? he heard a sweet, familiar voice whisper to him, tickling his ears and he stirred.
Minho??!
Wookyung's stirred, his eyes blinking as he sensed his waking discomfort. He was covered in a thick sweat all over, his face was burning and his sheets were sticking to his body. He realised that it was all a nightmare. All the stuff he had kept in the past. It seemed to be running back to him, keeping him up at night.
His nights were getting worse.
On an average, Wookyung had a poor sleep schedule. He was used to staying up late but also, strangely waking up earlier. His thoughts were an entity on their own, coming alive when they wished and going dormant just the same. He sometimes couldn't even feel if he was actually sleeping or not.
Minho's voice was also a constant in his visions. Always like a noose around his neck, moaning, scolding, whispering, and then shouting again. The last time they spoke in the teacher's lounge, the roof and then his goodbye in the lecture hall... the last time he saw him. It kept replaying in his head like a broken record.
If he was sleeping right next to him, he could just turn around and check on him, touch on him, knowing that as long as he was sleeping soundly, he could too... But there seemed to be no such comfort for him. He could feel the blood running thick in his swollen temples against the pillow.
"My baby had a bad dream??" he heard another soft whisper and jolted up, fully alert inside his dark, moonlit room. Someone was sitting on the other side of the bed, squeezing a wet towel "Minho?!!" Wookyung could tell his silhouette apart from the shadows "Shhh" he replied "Not too loud..."
"But..." Wookyung trailed, watching in awe as Minho placed the towel on the nightstand, brushing his hair with his fingers and unbuttoning his shirt down, putting them aside. His perfect body kept catching the moonlight. Smooth shoulders, pale chest, and carved cheekbones. He slipped his briefs off, leaving them on the floor.
"Are you going to sleep with me?" Wookyung asked earnestly. "What makes you think I will?" Minho replied, glancing at him across the bed, smiling lightly. "Because..." Wookyung couldn't take his eyes off his body "Because that's what you do every time I dream of you"
"So if this is your dream..." Minho turned to him, naked as he slipped between his duvet, bringing the towel along. As the covering settled down, it outlined his beautiful body, his legs stretching out "Then I'll do whatever you need me to do" he whispered to Wookyung, patting the side of the bed next to him, inviting him to lay back down.
Wookyung obediently followed his word, lying back down as Minho lay next to him on his side. He couldn't believe his eyes, how was he real?
His face was absolutely breathtaking in the moonlight, his features growing clearer as his eyes adjusted to the dark. The sheen on his cheeks, his eyelashes and perfectly shaped lips all made for unreal beauty. Minho placed a hand on the side of his face, first with his fingers and then the back of his hand, as Wookyung simply stared.
"You're burning" Minho noted and Wookyung shook his head. "You are" Minho rolled his eyes, bringing up the wet towel he had folded before and pressing it to his forehead, wiping and dabbing his ears, his jaw, and neck. Wookyung couldn't deny the relief he felt but didn't want to say it either.
"Doesn't it feel better?" Minho asked, leaning in to kiss his forehead and Wookyung stubbornly shook his head. Minho searched his face, wordlessly trailing down his neck and lifting his t-shirt to wipe the top of his chest. The cold water felt like a remedy to his body and Wookyung barely kept himself from looking relieved.
"Now?" Minho stopped, looking up at him and Wookyung shook his head again. Minho looked down at his t-shirt, pulling it lower and wider to reveal his heaving, sweaty chest. He gave it a knowing look, dragging the towel across his skin in long, loving strokes with a heavy hand.
Wookyung crept his fingers behind Minho's head, brushing through his soft hair before pulling them back firmly so he could look into his eyes "Why did you leave me?" he asked and Minho blinked slowly, sneaking his hand under his t-shirt, wiping his belly and sides.
He trailed his fingers down to the hem of his t-shirt and pulled it up over his chest, exposing his torso to the cold air in the room.
Although his skin still looked hot and sticky, his chest was now rising and falling at a slower pace. Minho took note of this, stroking his abs and circling the middle of his chest. Wookyung clenched his teeth as Minho kissed his sweat away, his lips feeling soft and gentle making his muscles spasm by his touch alone.
"Does it feel better now?" Minho whispered, his hand stopping right at his navel and Wookyung shook his head, giving him a hurt look. Minho reached lower, without breaking their gaze, lightly lifted the waist of his sweatpants and slipped a hand inside. Wookyung closed his eyes, a groan leaving his lips.
Minho looked pleased, wandering the towel above the elastic band of his underwear, pushing it lower and wiping his hips and groin. Wookyung could feel the wetness of the towel soak into the fabric of his underwear and felt tingly, feeling Minho's fingers brushing his skin... his hair...
"Stop" he grabbed his wrist and Minho got startled, eyes shining in the dark "What's the matter?" he asked and Wookyung relaxed his hold on him "Why are you doing this to me?" he asked and Minho sat up next to him, exposing his pale, beautiful back from behind, his butt perfectly soft.
"I'm doing what you want me to do to" he sounded upset "isn't this what you want?" he looked back at him from the corner of his eye. "I..." Wookyung stalled "... I don't know what I want..." he confessed, getting a small hmph in return "Is that what you tell yourself?" Minho laughed spitefully
"That you still don't know...?"
"It's so funny" he wrapped his arms around his waist "You fantasise about me kneeling in front of you, getting crushed under your weight, getting torn apart and getting spat on by you. You tell yourself that you want my body and want my tongue, you want me to obey and to put you above me... but when I come to you on my own..."
"You don't want me?" his voice was conflicted, sounding like something between scorn and a cry. He removed the sheets from his body, slipping out of Wookyung's bed and standing up on the cold floor "Don't leave me in the dark" Wookyung lurched forward, reaching out for him at that moment, pained and sickly.
Minho picked his shirt up from the bedside, covering his body with it protectively "And when I finally find the strength to leave... then you want me to stay..." he turned around, the moonlight creating a divine glow around his outline "What do you want from me?" he cried out suddenly.
Wookyung felt punched, getting pierced by his words." I..." he began to question himself and Minho sensed his doubt, letting out a sigh of exhaustion. "If you really don't know, Maybe staying in the dark will help you figure that out," he said, walking out of his room, his footsteps disappearing right outside his door.
"MINHO!!!" Wookyung leaped out of bed, falling on the floor in a mess. He pushed himself away from the cold ground, realising that he had just fallen out of his sleep. He looked across the bed, knowing the truth but still wanting to believe otherwise, the towel was gone from between his sheets.
His glasses on his nightstand, his underwear on the floor, both had disappeared and his other pillow was undented, his bed was cold on the other side. Wookyung looked down his front, seeing the large, patch of sweat in the middle of his shirt and under his arms.
His clothes were sticking to his back and he felt his head burst, sending him reeling on the floor until he could consciously think again. His heart was racing and he felt a restlessness growing inside his belly. He needed to know where he was if he had to keep himself from going insane.
Wookyung steadied himself on the floor, getting up and slowly walking out of his room, stumbling across his living room, dragging his car keys along, and shuffling out of the front door. Where are you? he kept asking himself Why did you leave without saying anything?
He walked to his car, struggling to even put the keys in. Somehow, Wookyung managed to start the engine, driving out of the parking lot and unsteadily navigating the lazy roads of the locale at 3 something am. The lights slanted in his vision, and he realised that he was already on several self-medicated sleeping pills.
The road grew all kinds of hazy and the other vehicles around him looked like they were floating but Wookyung was determined to get there. He pulled his phone out, barely looking at the road as he dialled his number. After 2 rings it went to voicemail and Wookyung felt his heart sink.
Why had he switched off his phone? Wookyung massaged his temples and powered up the gears, driving to the place he knew by heart. After consecutive swerves out of lanes and his tires climbing over debris he didn't have the strength to notice, Wookyung found himself in front of building no.3 Yujin Apartments.
He stumbled out of his door, having parked his car in a general spot in the middle of the road. Wookyung strode towards the entrance to the basement apartment. "MINHO!!" he shouted, banging repeatedly when he got no reply "MINHO OPEN THE DOOR!! STOP PUNISHING ME!!"
He pressed his head to the door, feeling his head throb with an intense pain. He banged again "MINHO! GET UP AND OPEN THE DOOR!!... please" he slowed down, backing away from the house, and then pressing his ear to the door again. He could only hear a clock ticking inside, he could feel the cold emptiness.
Why wasn't he at home???
A kind of raw fear gripped Wookyung and he turned the corner, checking for the side ventilator window. It was cranked shut and he tried to peer inside, seeing that the apartment was indeed, empty. Minho was gone without saying a word to anyone. Wookyung covered his mouth, squatting on the pavement.
Minho recently resigned from his only source of employment... a job that was not only paying his bills but was also holding up his large family... he had not joined any other University... at least not one that had come to his notice... His house was empty... like he hadn't been here for a long time.
Wookyung's mind filled up with dreaded possibilities of where he could possibly be, out of which only 2 seemed plausible. Minho had either been harmed in some way and was unable to come back to his house. That or he had disappeared on his own, lacking the motivation to teach and unwilling to be found again.
Wookyung ambled out of the building enclosure, dazed and consumed with worry. By the looks of how he was behaving in college the last time they met, it was much more likely that Minho wordlessly left on his own... but what happened? Was it because of the mounting financial pressure or maybe he felt inadequate?
Wookyung froze in the cold wind. Was he in some way responsible for driving Minho to such a point? Now he had to track him down somehow... wherever he was, whoever he was with. He just wanted to know if he was safe. His phone location was already untraceable with the means he had to pinpoint it.
He walked around the grill fencing and saw the godforsaken Genesis parked neatly in exactly the place he had left it. Surprisingly... it had no dust on it. Chances were that someone was still cleaning it... Wookyung touched its headlight, stroking the hood. Why did they ever have that stupid fight in the first place??
Wookyung stared in the blurry distance, suddenly hearing the soft hum of a vehicle parked across the street; it was a small, beaten van, which upon seeing him, slowly shuffled out of the parking spot to retreat back out on the main road. It looked suspicious, like a stakeout and Wookyung felt even more worried.
This wasn't a safe neighborhood.
He growled under the blinking street light. He just wanted him to be out there somewhere... wherever he was... to be safe and sound. Wookyung pulled his cellphone out again, calling Minho's number. Per usual, it went to voice mail. He waited eagerly for the beep, taking a deep breath before recording his message for him.
"Minho..." he cried into the speaker "Please pick up my calls... just... please talk to me... where are you?... What are you thinking??... Are you with someone? Why aren't you at home? Are you okay..." his voice got caught, his throat was already dry from his sleepless night "Scratch that... I sound so paranoid which I'm not... I'm just..."
He exhaled, the nerves bundling under his skin. "I just want to know if everything is fine... and it would be alright if you decided to apply to another University because of me... but... you didn't and you won't pick up my phone and I'm thinking the worst and my head hurts..." he rambled on, walking in circles outside his house.
"I do want you to write and I want you to get promoted at work and to get your due and I want you to open up to new people and to... go out and be completely yourself without worrying about getting hurt and I DON'T WANT YOU TO GET HURT... I've always wanted the best for you... I do... I do care... I always did..."
He realised belatedly that the 2-minute timer had clicked on his voice message and that probably a chunk of it hadn't been recorded. Wookyung clutched his phone, thinking about what to do next, there was no point in going back to his flat and trying to sleep because he honestly couldn't.
After several minutes, he instinctively walked back inside, towards the entrance to Minho's house, and sat down on a broken repair stool next to his doorbell. If he was coming back, he had to see him first. He wanted to know where he went and what happened to him. If he was coming back... he wanted to see his face.
He could leave one of his men to pull the harder shifts but this, something told him, he needed to do by himself.
****
6 YEARS AGO
~ Hôpital Psychiatrique du Cygne Blanc, 11 Rue Albert Bayet, Paris
Wookyung woke up on the third day after his episode. Getting roused from probably the first dream he ever had about Minho. The first of many more to come. Even though he wasn't around, it felt like he was still punishing him from afar. Confronting him for having left without a word.
Grief, along with consciousness, flooded back into his bloodstream, again he was stricken by the regret of having left Seoul in the middle of everything, if only he could go back and time... he would just take Minho and run away from his world, his medications, his mother's illness, the dreaded house, the companies, his father's expectations...
Wookyung opened his eyes in a ward surrounded by white curtains, shadows of the hospital staff moving across the plastic pleats. He tried to get up but realised that he was lightly strapped to the bed. "The rule is to say less and to move even lesser" he heard the churning equivalent of his uncle's voice and he fell still.
"Welcome back the world, son... you looked nice while you were tranquilised," he said, sounding pleased and Wookyung grimaced, finding Han Taekyung standing at the far corner of his enclosure, he came dressed in his funeral best, clutching a briefcase.
"I'm not your son" Wookyung grated and his uncle laughed "Well... I'll be damned if you were... thanks to your ridiculous outburst... I was able to collect your visa and devices" he unzipped his briefcase, tossing his belongings at the foot of the bed. Wookyung writhed from
Wookyung swung his head at him, his face filled with rage "That look won't fly around here you know" his uncle remarked smugly "They have poor tolerance for violent patients... moreover... I put in a frightening word for you so their dealings with you won't be lighthearted"
"You coward..." Wookyung clenched his jaw, a pained smile on his face. "Aren't we all..." he retorted right back, reaching into his briefcase and pulling out 3 photographs. He walked closer to his bed, holding them up in front of his eyes. Wookyung's eyes filled with tears as his vision cleared.
It was Byun Minho. Two photos of him caught in University, one in his classroom and the other of him playing football and a third of him walking home. Wookyung looked up at Han Taekyung, his spirit broken. "Don't... don't touch him" he mustered and his uncle blinked slowly.
"I won't... as long as you understand our bargain..." he implied coolly and Wookyung nodded his head "I'll do anything... please... leave him out of this" his voice scraped at the back of his throat, choking because of the dry conditioned air of hospital ward. He could suddenly feel the sheer discomfort of his surroundings.
A siren ringing somewhere, clattering instruments and people talking in a language he wasn't used to, the smell of illness in the air, spit, piss and old breath masked with cold disinfectant. Wookyung stared up the glaring ceiling lights, resigning to his life from hereon.
His uncle collected his belonging from the bed, "Wait" Wookyung hesitated "leave the photographs" he asked, feeling the shame of needing something from someone as disgusting as his uncle. "Well... since you've agreed to comply" he placed them back on his bed.
Wookyung settled back a little easier, wanting him to be gone already. "Let's shake on that" his uncle put a hand out to mock him, he laughed, pulling his hand back and pushing it into his pocket "They won't keep you forever... but I decide for how long they do" he warned him.
"So just stay out of trouble... get some shut-eye... your semester will be starting soon...." he checked his phone screen, just as eager to leave the room, he turned to leave, doing a double-take as if he just remembered something "Some advice for you if you want to keep your head..."
Wookyung gave him a withering look and Han Taekyung raised his brows indifferently "Do as your father says..." he shrugged "and your life will be made easier" he glanced at the photographs "his' too" with that he left him in his miserable bed with only Minho's photos to call his own.
Wookyung realised he hated hospitals with an abiding passion.
****
To be continued