i draw

"The nicest thing about the rain is that it always stops. Eventually." - Eeyore

[dzvelinaskebiyars]

Yeah, you can start over, you can run free (Hey)

You can find other fish in the sea (Hey)

You can pretend it's meant to be (Hey)

But you can't stay away from me

obsessed with yandere hyuk bruh

[exiled-13]

He's so fine omg

[exiled-13]

[bogwaterparasite]

Hummingbird crew Military service/Bootcamp Headcanons!!

Idea by owenknight. I honestly love this since I met so many people at my camp they acted like some of these characters which is fucking hilarious. Btw I'm doing this based on the USA military, not the Korean one. I fear I would do the research for how the Korean military works but that would take me way too long to do it accurately

Dom

He got scouted by every branch except the Airforce and Space Force. He ended up going for the Marines, a decision he would regret later on.

He cried when they shaved his head

His time at bootcamp was ROUGH. Unlike the others that knew what they were getting themselves into, he had no idea that he had chosen one of the strictest branches. He constantly gets smoked due to speaking, moving, and just outright breathing the wrong way. He managed to finesse himself a "double rations" badge and is constantly getting into fights because of others trying to take it away.

He couldn't handle not being able to call or communicate with anyone for the entire 4 months. He felt depressed due to the isolation, but he sure made some good friends while training.

Overall he ended up being a good cadet. Once he gets the hang of it he makes it a point to work more than anyone else. Although he can't make it up to the ranks as a Platoon sergeant or leader, he is likely to be one of their strongest soldiers.

MOS: Infantry

I believe he would choose active duty rather than reserve, would probably get discharged due to injury. His loyalty is insane,

He's the type to brag about the lobster and ice cream they give them as their meal without knowing that it's because he's getting deployed for war.

His favorite flavored crayon is purple.

Vinny

Personality and Physically wise I believe he would join the Marines, however Vinny would be one of those people that join out of need rather than want. Ultimately he goes for the Army, similar training, higher pay and rewards.

Similarly to Dom, he had a hard time during training. His Platoon mates had him ought to be weak, making fun of him for his unnatural eye and colored hair. Although he could maintain contact with his mother, he often got his calls and phone time cut short due to his bad behavior.

He hated having his hair shaved, however he didn't really do much against it–he did in fact mind them trying to dye his hair black. In the beginning weeks he was constantly getting into code reds, getting smoked and talked to all the time, it wasn't until they lowered his pay that he decided to get his act together, not engaging in the fights with others and focusing on his own training

MOS: Field artillery technician

Vinny doesn't like commanding people, but since his main motive is money he definitely stays in active duty. Due to his strength and strong demeanor, he is able to climb the ranks rather quickly, being able to retire and find another job aligning with his field.

Jay Jo

Jay likely wouldn't join the military, but if he did he would join simply for the benefits of education. Regarding what branch? He would be in the National Guard. Considering how smart he is many would often opt for the airforce, but I just don't feel as if that suits him. He focuses on his academics for his mother, not because it's something he outright enjoys–so I highly doubt he'd want to take the easy route.

For him, all the changes in appearance didn't really matter. Everyone is bald so he didn't stand out, even with his glasses there were other guys with worse prescriptions than him.

Jay's time at camp wasn't exceptional–he neither liked it or disliked it. Jay is one of those cadets that keep to themselves, saving his energies and doing the minimum until the situation calls for more. He isn't exceptional, but he is good.

Unlike the others he wouldn't go into active, just staying in reserve (2 weekends a month) and using the benefits for his college.

MOS: Counterintelligence technician

Overall he's fine as a military man, it's not his desired career path but it does its job at helping him with his actual goals

Minu

Minu would join the military in order to get away from his problems, to get away from the burden of his father's company and reliance on his family's money. Personally I feel as if he would join the Airforce, he works hard but he doesn't want to dedicate his life to this, he just wants to be able to get a headstart which in turn makes him look for the newer branches.

Minu was one of the better cadets in his Platoon, he made it a point to put himself out there and make good connections with his mates and Sergeant's alike. He's likely to climb to a Platoon leader or sergeant himself, although I believe the Platoon leader role fits him better.

He shaved his own head before going to bootcamp, trying to save himself the pain of having someone else do it for him. His leave was delayed so he walked around bald for a good week before he actually left.

ASFC: Warfighter communications operations officer

Overall, minu would start off in the reserve, but I feel like at some point in time he would opt to switch to active or try out another branch. Out of all of the crew he seems the most likely to succeed in this path, and he seems like the type of person that would enjoy it.

He basks in the chair force jokes, after all he probably is making a lot more than they are

June

Out of all of the hummingbird crew, June is the most likely to join the military just because he wants to. He has no need to, he is smart and can easily get into college–hed probably does it for the benefits and the sense of community it brings for people.

Much like jay, he joins the national guard. It pushes him physically while still enhancing his intelligence. He's used to structure so he doesn't really have a hard time acclimating to bootcamp. Much like the others, shaving his head was definitely a turn off, but what can you do about it.

June is also one of the better cadets, he makes it a point to not get in trouble, make connections with those around him and just enjoy the overall experience despite the downsides of it. He got smoked from time to time for trying to diffuse a situation, but he received no real repercussions for it.

MOS: Technical Engineering Specialist

Ultimately I think the military wouldn't be his only career. He'd go into reserve and serve his 8 years while studying and getting another job. He enjoyed it, talks highly about it and will bring it up as an option for those who consider it.

Shelly

If we are being SOOO fr, she would never join the military for any reason ever.. but for the sake of this drabble she will. Shelly will likely join the National guard as well, simply because that's the standard for those that don't wanna dedicate their life to battling for the government.

Thankfully the women don't have to cut their hair, although she will complain about having to wear it up. Personally she seems like a sock bun sort of girl, trying to keep it small, but oftentimes resorting to making it big in order to use it as a pillow during free time naps.

Shelly was a regular cadet, she got into a few code reds for talking bad or speaking out against girls in her Platoon. Maybe a few infractions for insubordination or fraternizing, but she's not a bad cadet. She has good stamina and is a fast learner, so she will definitely be able to climb the ranks easily.

MOS: Infantry

Shelly would serve her 8 years and never talk about it again. Ask her if you should join and she will say no, talk atrocities about it as if it was hell on earth.

This is it for right now!! I might make some for the other crews if you guys want me to. Thanks for reading :)

[exiled-13]

I miss hyeok, I miss shelly, I miss WB sm

[wthphe1n]

“Tangled Threads, Untouched Wings”

Pairing: Kwon Hyuk × Fem!Reader

Genre: Soft-dark romance, slice of life, subtle obsession, quiet fluff, character-driven, intimacy through small actions

Rating: teen (non-explicit, emotionally intimate)

TW: Obsessive tendencies, emotional dependency undertones, Hyuk’s distorted mindset (lightly present), contrast behavior (soft vs. ruthless)

A/N: haven’t written Hyuk in sooo long🥹 feel like im kinda out of ideas but i still really wanna write if anyone’s got ideas pls drop them for me

(@dzvelinaskebiyars @shintaru @i-nssomniia @zyart-jpg @sylith)

______________

Most people only get to know Kwon Hyuk through the jagged shards he leaves behind.

They know him through the chilling rumors whispered in the dark. Through the catastrophic accidents no one dares to look at twice. Or through the high-pitched screech of metal grinding against asphalt until sparks fly.

But you? You know him in the silence—with a hair tie clenched between your teeth.

"Stay still."

"...I am staying still."

"No, you aren't. You keep tilting your head back and forth."

"I haven't moved once."

"There—you just did it again."

Silence fell over the room for a heartbeat.

"...Oh."

You let out a small, sharp huff of frustration—that specific kind of annoyed-but-smitten sigh. Your fingers threaded through his surprisingly soft black hair, tugging just enough to pull him back into the exact angle you wanted.

"See? Moved again."

"...Sorry."

The apology was so faint it was practically a ghost of a sound. It was flat. Emotionless. Yet, it sounded like an automatic reflex he saved exclusively for you.

You went quiet for a second. Because every time you were with this man, the atmosphere felt like it had been flash-frozen.

Kwon Hyuk—

The man they call the 'Grim Reaper.' The monster people instinctively back away from.

He was sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of you, bowing his head just enough for you to mess with his hair, acting like this was the most mundane thing in the entire world.

No mask to shield his gaze.

No bucket hat to hide his identity.

Just the real him—a version of the Reaper the world is never allowed to see.

And that’s exactly what the rest of the world will never fucking understand.

To everyone else—Hyuk is a jagged blade, sharpened and ready to draw blood.

He has hands as cold as a corpse and a mind even colder than death itself. He’s the racer who never hesitates to ram an opponent off the track just to seize a victory.

This is the same man who once said, in a voice devoid of emotion yet dripping with perversion—“I really want to hear the sound of your wings when they finally snap.”

And the look in his eyes back then? It wasn't just a threat. It was a "desire"—a dark urge to actually follow through.

But for you?

“...Doesn’t this feel weird?” he muttered, his voice low and raspy.

You blinked. “...What’s weird?”

“Having someone mess with my hair like this.”

You didn't answer right away. You just hummed a soft tune, your fingertips threading through his jet-black strands, sectioning his hair with meticulous care as if working on a masterpiece.

“...Well, you’re the one sitting here letting me do it. I just figured you liked it.”

A heavy, weighted silence hung in the air for a long moment... before the confession finally slipped out. “...I wouldn't let anyone else touch me.”

You let out a small smirk at the accidental honesty. “Yeah, yeah. I know.”

He didn't pull away. His body, usually as tense as a drawn bow, relaxed in a way that defied logic. The eyes that usually scanned the world with lethal suspicion and bloodlust went completely blank...

Instead—

He just sat there. Still as a stone. Silent as a ghost. Letting you touch his "vitals" however you pleased.

Like a feral wolf surrendering its predatory instincts, simply because it recognized the 'scent' and 'touch' of the only pair of hands it ever trusted... the only hands he’d allow to pet his head without ever thinking of biting back.

It started without a damn rhythm or reason. Just like everything else between them.

You had complained to him once, purely out of annoyance. "Your hair is a disaster, Hyuk. Always."

"...It’s normal."

"It’s not. You look like you fought a hurricane and got your ass handed to you."

A pause. "...I usually win against hurricanes."

You shook with suppressed laughter. "Not today. Sit down."

And against all logic—he actually dropped to the floor in front of you.

From that day on, it became a routine that seeped into his marrow. No schedule. No written contract.

Just a silent, mutual hunger communicated through the stillness. Some days, you’d find him already waiting. His bucket hat tossed aside. His dark hair slightly damp—like he’d showered specifically for this ritual.

He was waiting for your touch.

"You're here," you noted.

"...You told me to come."

"That was an order from yesterday, Hyuk."

"...It’s still in effect today."

You stared at his broad back, let out a long sigh, and dropped down behind him as usual.

"God, you are so weird."

"...And yet, you’re still doing it."

"Yeah, well, if I didn't, you’d look so hideous even a stray dog wouldn't look at you."

A moment of silence... "...Liar."

The Evolution of the Reaper

He learned faster than you ever anticipated. Then again... he is Hyuk.

At first, he just sat there like a statue, letting your fingertips work their magic. But then—

"...Teach me."

You blinked in confusion. "Teach you what?"

"How to make a braid like that."

You hesitated, suspicious. "...Why do you want to learn?"

"I want to try it."

"...On who?"

A pause. "...On you."

And that was how the roles flipped. You were the one sitting in front of him now. The sensation was jarringly different. His fingertips were rougher, calloused from the track and the tools, but they were unexpectedly burning hot.

He wasn't clumsy—he just... didn't know how to be gentle with something so fragile.

"...Hyuk, you’re pulling too hard. It hurts."

"...It does?"

"Yes."

A split second of silence. "...Sorry."

He adjusted his grip instantly. This time, he was more careful, handling your hair as if he were touching the most brittle glass in existence.

"...Like this?" he asked softly, unsure.

You went quiet for a moment. He was actually trying for you.

"...Yeah," you murmured. "That’s better."

Hyuk was an unnervingly fast learner. Not because he was born for it, but because he mastered it in the blink of an eye. Too fast. It was almost haunting.

"How do you remember the pattern so quickly?"

"I’m just good at patterns."

"Sure, Mr. Genius Racer."

"...Don't you remember them?"

"I go by the vibe, Hyuk."

"...That sounds incredibly inefficient."

You burst out laughing. "Whatever! Mine still looks better than yours."

"...Only for now."

Within a single week, he wasn't joking. The braid he made for you was neat. Tight. Precise at every angle. It was... perfect. A piece of art that looked almost lifeless in its sheer flawlessness.

"You made it too tight. It’s pulling on my scalp."

"...No, it isn't."

"It's too tight! It hurts!"

Silence. Then, his fingertips softened, gently loosening the tension. "...Better?"

"...Yeah. Much better."

To the rest of the world—Hyuk is an unreachable void.

He is cold. Distant. Beyond the grasp of anyone.

Even Wooin couldn't help but let out a low, mocking chuckle while watching from a distance.

"The world’s gone mad," Wooin muttered.

"What are you talking about, Wooin?"

"I've never seen Hyuk sit still like a goddamn doll for anyone this long. It's unnatural."

You glanced at Hyuk. He didn't even spare a look toward his friend. He didn't care who was watching.

"...Maybe he's just too lazy to get up," you offered.

Wooin snorted, a sharp, disbelieving sound. "Yeah, right. Hyuk? Letting a girl play with his hair? This is the guy who finishes a race and doesn't even stick around for the trophy or the praise. He disappears before the engine even cools."

But with you? He was lingering. Blatantly. Pathetically.

"Are you leaving?" you asked when you saw him shift.

A beat of silence. "...Not yet."

You blinked. "...Oh."

This was the new reality you had to get used to. He was developing a... "Silent Craving."

He didn't demand your attention loudly. He didn't throw a fit. It was just—Presence.

He chose to orbit you. He walked beside you instead of vanishing into the crowd. He stood closer than necessary... until your shoulders were practically fused together.

And sometimes— "...Don't go that way."

You frowned, confused. "Why not?"

"...It’s too dark."

You gave him a teasing, provocative smile. "You know I like the dark, Hyuk."

A heavy, weighted silence followed. "...But I don't like it. (Because you won't be able to see me)."

You stared deep into his eyes. You looked past the stillness, hunting for the truth buried under that frozen exterior.

"...Are you worried about me?"

The silence swallowed the room... before a single, blunt syllable escaped his lips. "...Yeah."

That’s Hyuk.

He doesn't hide anything from you. When it comes to his feelings for you... he’s practically standing naked.

To the outside world—he is the Reaper, the herald of death.

But to you? He is something far more complex. It’s not that he’s become weak. It’s not that he’s lost his sting. It’s "Restrained Power." Like a bloodthirsty wolf choosing to sheath its claws simply because he doesn’t want to catch you in the crossfire of his own darkness.

You saw that side of him clearly one night.

A drunkard stumbled out of the shadows, slamming into you so hard you nearly lost your footing.

"Hey! Watch where you're going!" you snapped instantly. "You're the one drifting into me!"

The man spat a curse, his ego bruised. He stepped into your personal space, looming over you with a jagged, threatening edge.

"You got a problem, brat? You looking to get hurt?"

You didn't back down. You gave him a defiant, razor-sharp grin.

"Yeah, I do! Come on then, try it!"

You didn't even see Hyuk move.

One heartbeat—he was standing bored behind you.

The next—his massive, obsidian shadow had completely swallowed you whole, blocking the drunkard's view of you entirely.

He didn't scream. He didn't lunged.

He just stood there. The sheer atmospheric pressure of his killing intent turned the air so heavy it was impossible to breathe.

"…Back off, man," the drunkard stammered, his voice suddenly trembling. Hyuk tilted his head just a fraction. The gaze that usually looked at you with a trace of softness was gone. In its place was a hollow, soul-chilling void.

"...No."

One word. That was it.

And believe it or not—that was enough to make the entire world stop spinning.

The man turned sober in an instant. He didn't just walk away; he scrambled, bolting into the night without a single backward glance.

Hyuk didn't chase him. He didn't finish the job.

He just stood there like a monolith in front of you. Stiff. Lethal. Frozen.

Until you reached out and gave his arm a tiny, playful poke.

"…Hey, Hyuk."

A beat of silence. "...What?"

"You're doing that face again."

"...What face?"

"The one where you look like you're about to systematically erase someone's entire bloodline."

A pause. A heavy breath escaped him. "...Sorry."

And with just that one apology—the bloodthirsty wolf was back, crouching quietly at your side as if the monster from a moment ago had never existed.

Hyuk never learned how to give a normal compliment.

"You’re good at this," he muttered.

You looked at him, confused. "...At doing hair?"

"Yeah."

"Is that... a compliment, Hyuk?"

A beat of silence. "...It’s a fact."

You let out a dry laugh. "Wow. Fucking romantic, Mr. Grim Reaper."

"...I wasn't trying to make it sweet."

But sometimes—the feelings leaked out anyway.

"...It looks good on you."

You blinked. "...What looks good?"

"That braid."

You reached up, lightly touching the pattern he had woven into your hair. "...Oh. Thanks."

He looked away instantly. The tips of his ears turned a faint, dusty red. Just a fraction. Just enough for you to see the crack in the ice.

You had heard the stories from the others. The whispers in the pit. "Hyuk is a fucking psycho," they’d say.

"Why?"

"Do you know what he did to that dragonfly he liked?"

You had frowned, curiosity piqued. "What did he do?"

They told you about a dragonfly tied to a thread. About wings stripped of their freedom. About a fixation so suffocating it was morbid.

You didn't show fear then. But later, when it was just the two of you in the heavy silence...

"...Did you really do that? To the dragonfly?"

You were sitting beside him. No touching. No braiding. Just a raw question flung into the void. The silence lasted an eternity.

"...Yeah."

No denial. No excuses. Nothing but the naked, ugly truth.

"Why?"

The air grew heavy. "...Because it was interesting."

You swallowed hard, your throat feeling like sandpaper.

"...You really are a psycho, Hyuk."

"...I know."

You looked into his bottomless eyes, searching for the subtext, for the monster hiding in the dark.

"...And would you do that to a 'person' you liked?"

A pause. "...Only if they let me."

Your heart skipped a beat, a sharp physical pang in your chest.

"...And what about me?"

The silence this time was heavier, longer, more suffocating than ever before. When he finally spoke, his voice carried a jagged, microscopic tremor.

"...No."

You frowned. "Why not?"

He turned to face you fully. No mask. No bucket hat. Just the Reaper, exposed.

"...Because I don't want to see you break in my hands."

He went still, his gaze locking onto yours with a terrifying intensity.

"...I just want to see how far your wings can carry you. I’ll be right here, watching from below. That's enough."

And somehow—that "kind" answer felt a thousand times more chilling than the story of the dragonfly.

In the end, it became a golden shackle that bound them together.

You did his hair. He did yours.

The long stretches of silence. The touch of fingertips so tender it was almost agonizing. A thousand unspoken emotions hanging in the air like heavy, unrefined silk.

"You missed a strand right here," you whispered.

"...Where?"

"Here. Right here."

You leaned in close—so close you could catch the faint, masculine scent of his skin, a mix of cold wind and something distinctly him. You reached out to tuck the stray lock of hair back into place.

Hyuk didn't move a single centimeter. He didn't even seem to be breathing. It was as if he were terrified that if he inhaled too deeply, the dream would shatter, and you would dissolve into the air.

One evening, the ritual reached its peak.

You finished braiding his hair, the neat patterns a stark contrast to his lethal aura. You gave his head a playful, affectionate pat—the kind you'd give a massive, dangerous hound.

"Done. You can go now."

But he didn't move. He sat there, anchored to the floor.

"...Hyuk?"

"...Wait."

You blinked, confused. "Wait for what?"

The silence stretched, thick and pulsating with a tension that felt like it could snap.

"...Stay like this. Just a little longer."

You hesitated. "Why?"

His voice was a ghost of itself—thin, fragile, and more vulnerable than you had ever heard it.

"...It’s... quiet. I’ve never felt this kind of peace before."

A small, complicated smile tugged at your lips.

"God, you really are a freak, aren't you?"

But even as you said it, you didn't leave. You didn't pull away.

And Hyuk—

Kwon Hyuk—

The Reaper who lives to crush the most beautiful things until they're dust in his palms—

He chose to be a statue.

He leaned his head toward you, inch by agonizing inch, until he could feel the radiating warmth of your skin.

He chose not to destroy.

He chose not to steal your freedom.

He chose to "preserve" this tenderness—hoarding it for himself, a secret sanctuary he will guard for eternity.

[exiled-13]

Shelly but realistic (?)

Experimenting with new style do let me know what you think ( ´∀｀ )b

[exiled-13]

Happy Chinese New Year! May whoever reads this have a prosperous, joyful year and be blessed with little worries and lots of money :)

[dzvelinaskebiyars]

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐆𝐄 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐖𝐁 𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐒

Draw your favorite WB character as a child

Draw your favorite character with sanrio plushies

Draw your favorite character with your problems

Draw them as mythical creature

Draw your favorite WB crew in Squid Game

Draw your favorite character as a GhostFace

Draw your favorite character in history au

Draw your favorite WB character meeting your other favorite character from another show/manhwa

Draw your favorite character traumatized

You are not forced to take a part in this challenge! You can ignore it if you want to! @zyart-jpg @tsukihhhhima @exiled-13 @wh0ish4jun @owenight I legit forgot if there were more

[exiled-13]

Aight bet

[dzvelinaskebiyars]

You just don't know it yet but you love me and I love you the same

One day we'll have a pretty wedding and I'll be your everything

We'll be together, yes forever, we will never ever part

Oh you don't know it yet but baby I've already got your heart

[dzvelinaskebiyars]

Wind Breaker tag game:

Your favorite character(s):

Character you absolutely hate:

Your favorite arc:

Your least favorite arc:

Your favorite underrated character:

Character you relate to:

Character you think is overrated:

Character whose backstory you desperately want to know:

tagging: @zyart-jpg @owenight @bfwooin @wthphe1n @pantheonofbeauty @i-nssomniia @hyukwwn @erisawrites @osariin @meymoni9 @sylith @r31ra @intwestinez @ineedjay @nixruniii @exiled-13 @wh0ish4jun (you can ignore the tag if you don't wish to participate)

[exiled-13]

Your favorite character(s): Hyeok, Shelly

Character you absolutely hate: That dude from Punk Prince (slimy and creepy as hell man), Keounho (or whatever his name is)

Your favourite arc: Ghost crew vs Sabbath, Monster vs Owen

Your least favorite arc: All were good but I felt the USA arc was rushed

Your favourite underrated character: The Yoon siblings, ( + maybe Dong-gu, I gotta respect how he stayed with Hwangyeon even at his lowest and maybe TJ idk- he's got guts)

Character you relate to: June Lee

Character you think is overrated: Jay Jo- I know he's the MC but he just feels unexciting and yes, he's a great cyclist and whatnot but from what I remember, I barely see him training. Even I see more panels of June and Shelly training compared to Jay. Yes, he has that one-inch drift going, he's a prodigy but just... I can't wrap my head around it- I still think Vinny deserved to win the final race (here we go) and Sangho Choi should have won too (imo)

Character whose backstory you desperately want to know: Hyeok (I miss him sm), Heri's and Mahon's friendship (how old is she anyways and how did she get together with June?)

Thank you for tagging me! :)

[exiled-13]

If ykyk (I couldn't resist, I hope this doesn't offend anyone)

[dzvelinaskebiyars]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY HYUKKKKK

[dzvelinaskebiyars]

"𝐉𝐮𝐩𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐚 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐟𝐚𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐝"

— "Korea's cycling prodigy: Wooin Yoo!' Everyone used to call me that when I was young. So I also thought that I was someone special...Like an idiot. I think my dad was actually a bit proud of me back then and maybe because I wanted to live up to his expectations, I started training harder at cycling. From childhood through middle and high school, I lived as 'promising athlete'. But one crash changed everything and I ended up needing leg surgery. After the accident, my body already knew--i'd never be able to ride like I used to."

"𝐌𝐨𝐨𝐧 𝐢𝐬 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐚 𝐫𝐞𝐟𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐮𝐧'𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭"

— "Mahon, the truth is...chasing someone in their shadow is painful. I didn't realize it until now. I was jealous of you. I hated you. You suddenly jumped to S-rank to race me in the grand prix and that scared me. You have raw talent. I didn't want to admit it...But you are natural. A genius. You have no idea. But the more you shine, more I'm shrouded in shadow."

"𝐕𝐞𝐧𝐮𝐬, 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐞𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞, 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐲𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐠𝐥𝐨𝐛𝐚𝐥 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠"

— "it's my fault...If only—if only I hadn't said that to him...it was me. I did it. I killed him...I knew he would never do something like that but I got caught up in everything people have been saying. I pushed uncle Mahon away because I was afraid of what others would say about me. My words hurt someone that was important to me. If only I'd kept my mouth shut...If only I apologized...If only I'd stayed by his side until the end...I could have prevented his death. It's all because of what I said."

"𝐌𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐲—𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐞𝐭"

— "they're completely different from how average I am. It's always been like that for as long as I can remember. I was never good at particularly anything. There was nothing I really wanted to do and my days went by without anything special happening. Maybe unlike you guys, I've never really wanted something so desperately and I have never been that passionate about anything either. I wasn't born with any particular talent and I have never been popular. Everything about me...has been mediocre. My last race with these guys. My last chance to give it all. So what if I'm not the star? So what if people don't notice me? I'll just keep doing what I have always done. I'll play my part so rest of the Hummingbird can shine! I'll keep being the Wind Breaker!"

[exiled-13]

[dzvelinaskebiyars]

Posting my ex because what is he gonna do about it?

[dzvelinaskebiyars]

I love how Hyuk fans just...look at him almost kill someone for laughs and giggles and then say "yup, this is the man of my dreams"

[exiled-13]

Different Worlds

A/N: This has been sitting in my docs for months and it seemed like a waste not to post it so here we go I hope you enjoy! I'll make a better header next time (maybe) TW: Cursing (mild)

Large house. Money. Present parents and siblings. Successful siblings and parents who had a high standing in society. 

A picture perfect family— and you were the black sheep. Life wasn’t that bad you would say, your parents never raised a hand at you, your siblings never screamed at you but behind closed doors, you knew they talked about you, murmuring about how you wouldn’t account for anything. 

So you turned to him— Wooin Yu, a boy in a similar situation as you.

“You’re going to participate in another cycling competition?” You repeated as you tugged on the grass strands on the field you were both sitting on. “Didn’t you just come back from one?” 

“But don’t you need time for your muscles to recover? What if your muscles tear and you become permanently incapacitated or something—" 

“You worry too much,” Wooin said as he turned lazily and threw an arm over your legs. “I’m not made of porcelain. And it’s just one more race, that’s all.” 

Your hands stilled and you asked, “Are you doing all this for you dad again?” 

“What? I just want to solidify my position as a top cyclist. It has nothing to do with my old man,” he laughed. 

You weren’t convinced, you knew he was lying, after all, both of you formed a deep bond through common experiences of loneliness, alienation from your families. Both of you wouldn’t admit it, but the yearning for some recognition from your families were present and despite all the things both of you said, did, the thought of you families stayed at the back of your minds. Thus, you weren’t living for yourself— you both were living for people who didn’t give a shit. 

“Anyways, enough about me,” Wooin said as he sat up.  “What’s this about you joining that agency? You really want to be a K-pop idol?” 

You resumed ripping grass off its roots. “You know I like singing and dancing. It’s worth a try, you know, seeing that my parents can and are willing to pay for it. Furthermore…” Your eyes lowered and your next rip was unnecessarily forceful. “And I won’t have to see them anymore. Well, at least a while.” 

If he took note of the bitterness in your voice, he didn’t comment on it. “Well, looks like I won’t be seeing you around anymore. You have to live in a dorm and everything, right?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Well, you better keep in touch, woman,” he said as he stood up, brushing off grass stains as he reached a hand out to you. He grinned. “You better not forget about me when you get famous.” 

Reaching out for his hand, you laughed. “And you better not forget me when you become a world famous cyclist.” 

And so the both of you cracked jokes, playfully shoved each other as you both made your ways back to your respective stuffy, suffocating homes. Because as long as the both of you had each other, the days would go by just fine. 

__________

Back-to-back performances, vocal practices, dance lessons wore you out, physically and mentally but you were willing to take it over the exhaustion that you dealt with in the confines of your family’s luxurious house. Mentors were critical, relentless “feedback” that poked and ripped at one’s confidence, one's dignity. But it didn’t do much to you; you’ve dealt with your own fair share of murmurs behind your back, the voice in your head that whispered that you would amount to nothing. 

Many trainees dropped out fast but competition was still fierce. Mental fortitude and perseverance was a must or there was no way one could survive in this cutthroat environment. 

But you supposed your calls with Wooin helped get you through everything. He allowed you to dump all your worries on him, sat in silence on the other side of the line when you didn’t want to talk but needed his presence. It was comforting and you were grateful for him. 

You learned that he enrolled in track racing high school, met someone as equally unhinged as him and was dominating races. 

“Are you going international soon?” Was what you always asked when he picked up the phone. You could picture his grin on the other side, as he lamented about how training was eating at him, how it was hard to cope with the “attention” from his jealous peers. 

“I'm going to make it up there,” was what he would say before he hung up. “And so will you.” You believed him, after all, he was the only one who you clung to. 

But tragedy always struck when one least expected it. 

You crashed through the hospital hallways, offering brief apologies as you shoved nurses and patients alike out of your way before you skidded to a stop in front of a door and slammed it open. 

“Wooin…!” You choked out as you gasped for breath. “Just how—!” 

His head lifted, or at least as much as it could be lifted with the cast stabilising his neck. His eyes found yours as he smirked. “Fancy seeing you here, [name]. You came specially to see me? Aw, I'm so touched.” 

“Stop joking around,” you snapped as you approached the bed he was lying in. There was another male by his side, dressed head-to-toe in black with the coldest eyes you had ever seen. He inclined his head in acknowledgment and you nodded back at him. 

“Are you guys flirting while I'm right here?” Wooin called as he groaned dramatically. “And here I thought you guys were here to see me.” 

“Seeing as how you still have the energy to run your mouth, you're totally fine,” his friend said flatly. 

“You love it when I talk. [Name] loves my voice,” Wooin replied shamelessly. “Anyways, how did you get out?” He asked you. “I thought your agency was strict on rules.”

“I begged them for a day off.” 

“Aww, I’m so touched. Why don’t you demonstrate just how exactly you begged—” 

“He’s perfectly fine. I’m leaving.” 

“You can’t just leave like that!” Wooin yelped. “I’m dying here!” 

Your gaze drifted across his face, taking note of the scuffs along his cheekbones, before it drifted down to rest on his leg— the reason why you were even here in the first place.  

Noticing how your face changed, he said, “It’s not that bad.” 

“Sure. A fracture that required surgery is not that bad,” his friend deadpanned. 

“Shut up, Hyeok. When did you get so talkative? I like it better when you keep your mouth shut.”

As the two argued, you assessed the state of his leg: bound up in a cast, a nasty purplish colour bruising at where his leg was operated on, wires and tube sticking on. It was awful and all you could think about now was, What happens to us now? 

The door slid open and a nurse stepped in. “A check-up on the patient,” she explained as she set a tray of medicine down. 

Wooin’s friend made his way out and you turned to Wooin. “I’ll come back soon. Behave,” you warned. 

He merely gave you a smirk that promised nothing but trouble. Seeing that familiar gesture, you wanted to believe everything was going to be okay, that he was fine but you saw that vulnerability in his eyes, even when it was just a split second. You knew he was putting on a brave front just for you. 

You closed the door behind you and found his friend leaning against the wall, right next to the room you had just exited. Without a word, you walked over and did the same. 

For a while, neither of you spoke before you asked, “What’s your name?" You heard what Wooin called him, he heard when Wooin called you but you supposed you were asking out of basic courtesy. Or that you just needed to do something, anything to get over what you just saw. 

“Hyeok,” was his reply.  

“Mine’s [name].” 

“I know. Wooin talks about you all the time.”

You should have been flattered, but… The question that had been on your mind ever since you got the news of his crash. “...What happens to him now?” 

The male next to you stuck his hands into his pockets as he looked up to the ceiling. “I doubt he’ll be the same again.” 

You would say an injury to an athlete was equivalent to a death sentence. No matter how small, it could impact your body, your fortitude in some way. A trainee who had simply twisted her ankle, who had been given no time to recover, was kicked out after her dance evaluation. It was unfair yet no one, including you, spoke out about it. You couldn’t imagine how badly Wooin’s leg would slow him down on the track. 

“Is there any chance he can still make it international?” 

“...Who knows.” 

The nurse came out before you could formulate a reply and Hyeok went back in. But you stayed there against the wall, staring blankly at the floor. The confirmation from Hyeok was all you needed. Wooin’s career as a cyclist probably ended right before it started. You gnawed on the soft pad of your thumb, dread and uneasiness filling you.  

I'm going to make it up there. And so will you. 

“How the hell…are you going to do that now?” You mumbled. A jolt of pain snapped you out of your thoughts. A coppery taste filled your mouth as you studied your thumb. “Damn it.” 

“Yo.” You looked up to see Hyeok sticking his head out of the room. “You going to stand out there all day? Wooin is whining on and on about how much he misses you.” 

“I did not say that, you fucker! I just asked what was taking her so long!” You heard Wooin shout. 

“Maybe it would have been better if you damaged your vocal cords…” Hyeok muttered. 

“What the hell did you just say you piece of shit?” 

Wiping the blood off with the hem of your shirt, you let out a soft chuckle as you listened to them both banter, finally making your way back into the room. Everything's going to be fine, you thought. 

It had to be. 

__________

Your talks with Wooin became less frequent. Expectations in your agency got higher, competition got more intense. All your free time was left to practice on your own, brushing up on your own vocals, your dancing skills. You didn't have time to call him. You felt bad, after all, Wooin probably needed more support than ever after what he had just been through but he was busy too. Or so he claimed. He said he needed to train even harder. For what you didn't ask but at least he didn't seem to be giving up on his hope to make it onto the world stage. 

It was convenient and a relief since monthly evaluations were coming up and you heard a lot more trainees were going to be pushed out. Sometimes, you sent him clips of you singing, dancing just to make him feel included in your journey though he never said anything at his end. 

Finally, your breakthrough happened. You were listed for last evaluations and words couldn’t describe how elated you were. All those nights of crying, countless hours in the studio seemed to be paying off. 

The agency let the remaining trainees take a day off and the only person you cared for meeting with was Wooin. Your family? Didn't matter. Seeing how they never once reached out once you started training into the agency, you didn’t see why you had to reach out. 

You met Wooin at a little cafe tucked in the middle of a neighbourhood where no one knew you both. He waved you over to the table he was sitted at. He looked a little worse to wear but he brushed it off when you asked him about his current state. 

“What have you been up to?” He asked, the deflection clear. 

So you launched into a recollection of what had happened so far, excitedly telling him just how close you were to debut. How all your time sweating tears and blood was paying off. You were happy, happy that you could share your joy with him, happy that you could see him again. It had been close to a year since you had seen him after your last encounter at the hospital. 

Throughout your talking, he nodded and smiled but you should have seen the signs, seen the tensing of his jaw and how his hand that was sitting next to his drink curled into fists. Because maybe if you had taken notice, you could have braced yourself but you didn’t. 

“[Name],” he cut in. “I'm glad that you're working hard for your dreams and whatnot but…” 

“But what?” You asked. 

“Honestly, what makes you think you can actually debut?” 

Your hands stilled on your cup. “What?” 

“You said that there are fifteen trainees left excluding you, all taking part in the last test or whatever, and that only four can debut. So what makes you think—” his eyes flicked to yours. “—you'll be the one debuting?” 

You let out a nervous laugh. “Wooin I don't understand—” 

“Your singing and dancing isn't anything quite special,” he said. “Sure, you're pretty but that's all to it. Do you really expect to debut with only your looks going for you?” 

Your grip on your cup tightened. You opened your mouth, but no words came out. 

“Realistically, your chances of debuting are slim and ever thought about what happens if you don't make it? You should just quit now, let it end on your own terms rather than be humiliated.” 

“Wooin, what are you saying—” 

“Quit,” he said flatly. “I'm saying this for your own good. You can start looking for other options and then—” 

“Shut up!” Your voice raised to a shout and you noticed how his eyes widened. The lone other customer in the cafe looked startled and the cafe owner seemed to be debating if she should interfere, but you didn't care. 

You saw him gulp and you vaguely realised it was the first time you had ever raised your voice around him since you both had first met. Hell, it was the first time you have ever raised your voice. 

“Don’t give me shit that you're saying this all out of concern,” you snapped. “What the hell is wrong with you! I'm telling you all this because I'm excited and you just had to say this?” 

“I really am!” He fired back. “I looked into it. Most trainees don't even debut. Even after they spent years in the same agency! Then because they spent their whole life there, they have nowhere to go, no future that hadn't been centered around being an idol!” 

“That doesn't give you the right to say all those harsh things!” You almost screamed. “I'm working hard because we promised to climb to the top together!”

“While it's not possible, okay?” He retorted. “We were young when we said it!” 

You paused before you said quietly, “Does this have to do with your cycling?” 

His recovery was quick but you caught how his body stiffened. “Psh, that has nothing to do with it—” 

“Are you telling me to give up because you're giving up? Do you know how selfish you're being?” 

A pause before he said, “My father's officially done with me.” 

You should say something comforting, but the ball was rolling and it wasn't stopping. “And what has that got to do with me?” You asked bitingly. 

“You want to debut to get your family's approval, right? Well, it's not worth your time and effort. In the end, they won’t even bother to give you a bit of affection. They won’t give a shit. ” 

“Has it ever occurred to you that I'm doing this because I want to? I'm not like you who only furthered his cycling just so he could suck up to his daddy's ass!” 

His hand slammed on the table as he jumped up. “What the hell did you just say?!” 

The both of you glared at each other, neither willing to back down before the owner came up and tentatively asked if the both of you could keep it down. 

Wooin collapsed back into his seat and you folded your arms tightly against your chest. You were breathing hard as you looked down at the table, staring determined into the wooden grains as if you wanted to disappear into it. 

You didn't come here to fight with Wooin, you didn’t want to walk out without reconciling but something in you had splintered, its sharp edges digging hard into you and you knew it was over. 

“You know,” you whispered. “The other trainees asked if I wanted to join them to go to the amusement park. They said it would be a bonding activity, so we could know each other better before we compete. So we wouldn't harbor ill feelings towards each other. I was the only one who declined because I really wanted to meet you.” 

Something dripped onto the table, followed by another and another, leaving dark spots in the wood. You closed your burning eyes as you continued, “They promised we would all debut together. That we would all make it. It's so strange, my competitors have faith in me but my only friend, the friend who I thought understood me the best doesn't.” 

He didn't say anything, didn't even move. You wiped at your tears as you stood up. “Well, thanks for everything Wooin,” you said in a flat little voice before you walked out. No byes, no see you soon, no I'll text you later. 

Because that chasm of doubt and resentment had opened and nothing could bridge the both of you back again. 

__________

You didn’t remember how you got back to your agency building, didn’t remember how you got back to your dorm. “Man,” you mumbled as you laid down on your bed, staring up at the ceiling. “This sucks, really badly.” 

The fact that Wooin, the very person whom you thought was right by you, was in fact, not. 

Maybe his emotions were just heightened with the falling out with his father but did that justify him being a jerk? “No…no it fucking doesn't!” You sat up violently and threw a pillow across the room. Breathing hard, you laid back down, gripping at your hair as you curled up into a ball. “Damn it…” 

You wanted nothing more than to cocoon yourself in bed, you wanted to wallow in self pity but the world didn't stop just for you and you had to keep going. Especially with what was on the line now. 

I have to debut. That thought was the only thing keeping you from breaking down entirely. “I won't…let those years go to waste,” you mumbled. “I…must.” 

That was the only thing that drove you, that set goal that made you push yourself harder and harder. There were times that your body gave up, times where you wanted to have someone who could hold you. The other trainees were nice enough, but what you really wanted was comfort from him though it would never be extended to you again. 

You never reached out, nor did he. If he was content with ignoring you, then so would you. It sucked, it really did. But what could you do? Your pride was on the line and you were still smarting over his words that ripped and teared into you every night as you replayed that day. 

Two years passed and finally— “...and the final member to debut is [name].” 

You could hear the other trainees cheering, some reached out to hug you and clap you on the back. You smiled and thanked them before you stood up to join the other three trainees you would be debuting with. The executive producer  was still talking but as you stood there, all you could feel was— 

I feel like shit. You shouldn't be feeling this way, hell you should be feeling elated, jumping with joy that you finally made it. But… 

The executive producer walked out along with the rest of the staff involved in the last evaluations. The other trainees rushed to congratulate the four of you and as they crowded around you, you felt the words slip out of you. “I'm sorry.” 

Those around you paused and looked at you in confusion. You didn’t know why you were apologising but the words that flowed out didn't stop.

“I'm sorry for taking this spot that you all rightfully deserve.” Shut up. Shut up! You got here on your own efforts. Why the hell are you apologising for the hard work you put in— 

“What are you talking about [name]?” One trainee laughed. “You deserve the last spot! If you hadn’t made it, I would have rioted.”

“That's right,” another chirped. “We all saw how hard you pushed yourself. It was honestly scary to watch.” 

One of your fellow debut member, Hailey hugged you from behind. “And you pulled us all together during practices. You worked so hard for yourself and for all of us too!” 

“But—” you began but another trainee cut you off with a laugh. 

“Looks like someone wasn't listening when the producer was talking,” she teased. “We're all going to debut. It's just that we'll debut later at a different time. You guys will just be the first to debut out of all of us.” 

“O-oh, I guess I missed that part,” you said with a nervous chuckle. 

“C'mon guys! Let's take a group picture! Move it, [name]!” 

As you all gathered in front of the camera, laughing and joking, there was only one thought at the back of your mind. Why is it that the people who were my competitors have more faith in me than a friend who had been with me since childhood? You looked up just as the camera flashed, plastering a bright smile on your face. 

This is the worst. 

__________

Your rise to stardom didn’t take long, a year actually. You don’t remember how it happened but it did. It worried you, how you never seemed to absorb whatever was going on around you. How you only remembered blurred moments of meetings, performances and studio recordings. 

You were just getting by, and it was affecting you mentally. Everyone around you was supportive enough, fans that left sweet messages under your posts (and a few nasty ones that you honestly didn’t care about) and your members' continuous silly texting in the group chat that dragged a few smiles out of you. 

It was tiring, it really was. You knew why you felt this way but there wasn't anything you could do about it. You didn’t want to do anything about it. So you just let the days pass by, you just went with whatever life threw your way. 

“Fan meet! Let’s go!” Your fellow girl group member, Hailey shouted as she hooked an arm under yours to yank you up from your spot in front of the vanity table and drag you to the door. 

“Um, I’m not done yet?” 

“Too bad,” she said. 

She dragged you all the way to where the fan meet was going to be held. A long table and stacks of albums where your other two members were already seated. You took your seat, trying to listen to Hailey’s excited chatterings. Your head hurt, you were tired and you really did not want to meet the fans in your current state but it was what it is. 

Fan after fan, adopting that overly bright voice as you listened to the person seated in front of you and thanked them for coming. You couldn’t recall what you just heard, couldn't even take note of what they looked like. You really hoped no one could tell that you were off your game and that no one after this would flame you on social media calling you insincere. 

“Hi,” you said without taking much notice of the next fan. “Thank you for coming—” Your words trailed off. You felt his presence before you saw him. Willing yourself not to breathe even the wrong way, you uncapped your maker pen and took an album off the stack next to you. 

You didn't want to be the first to speak, you didn't want to look up. 

“Fancy meeting you here,” he said and the way he said it so causally, so airily, made your hand tightened painfully on your pen. 

“Certainly,” you said evenly as you started to sign the album. 

A pause then he said, “So you made it.” 

“I did,” you agreed. 

“You're certainly popular now,” he chuckled. “I see you everywhere now.” 

“I owe it to my agency for getting to where I am today,” you replied. 

You dotted your final stroke before you looked up, to see him in all his glory after years of nothing but silence from him. 

He'd really changed. Piercings dotted his face, his eyes were hidden behind a pair of yellow sunglasses and an orange cap accessorised his head. His style of dressing was…unique. And you knew immediately, the male sitting in front of you now was not the male you last remembered. 

“I heard that your family didn't even know you debuted till a media company reached out to ask what they thought of your success,” Wooin said. 

“I saw no reason to tell them,” you replied simply. Sure, they supported you financially, but never checked in once, so you didn't bother to share. 

“Hah!” He chortled. “Their reactions were filmed, it was really fucking funny. They looked so put on the spot.” 

“I'm glad you got a kick out of it.” Your parents hadn't been pleased and set one text reminding you about reputation and whatnot. You promptly blocked them. 

“You—” his voice faltered for a bit before he said quietly, “You didn't think of telling me?” 

“I saw no reason too. Why would I tell someone who doesn't give a shit?” What good would it bring when the other party doesn’t give a shit?

You almost fooled yourself into thinking he still cared when you saw his body stiffen but his nonchalant tone when he said, “That’s true.” Followed with a laugh that wiped that hope. 

“So what are you doing here, Wooin?” You asked. “Last I remembered, you thought fan meets were a waste of time.” 

“Well, I don’t exactly have another chance like this to see you again, do I?” 

Not really knowing how to answer that, you followed up with another question. “So what have you been up to?” 

“Me?” He leaned against the chair and crossed one leg over the other. Was that slippers he was wearing? Gucci slippers with socks? “Nothing much. A few deliveries here, a few deliveries there.” 

You raised an eyebrow. “Illegal stuff.” 

“I didn’t say it. You did.” 

“Just how did you get involved in the underworld now?” 

“That’s for me to know and you to find out,” he grinned. “And if you really want to know, I’ve been taking part in an amateur tournament. League of Street.” 

“Good for you.” Silence descended between the both of you. Neither of you knew what else to say but thankfully the staff behind you gently reminded the both of you that the time was up. 

As Wooin stood up, you couldn’t help but say, “Stay out of trouble, Wooin.” He didn’t need that reminder, he was an adult— he could make his own decisions. But he smirked as he reached over to take the album from you, his fingers brushing against yours.

“I try,” was all he said before he was gone. Just as quickly as he had appeared back into your life. 

A few hours later as you got ready for bed, you went to check what this League of Street was. 

“An amateur cycling tournament?” You murmured as you flicked through article after article. “So…he never got to go pro after all.” 

It seemed this tournament was a pretty big event seeing that there was an official social media that had a million followers. As you thumbed through their homepage, you noticed it. In a post, it featured Wooin and his team. That trademark smirk wide on his face. 

It made your heart ache. That he changed so much, and you were not a part of his journey. But you supposed it was for the best. The comments under the post varied greatly, some calling his crew out for dirty plays while others cheered them on. The duality of social media had never been more obvious. 

“[Name].” 

Your head tilted up. “Yes, Hailey?” 

She came to sit next to you. “You alright?” 

“Of course.” 

She fidgeted with her fingers. “I know it's not my place to ask but was that guy with yellow glasses your boyfriend?” 

“Boyfriend?” You laughed. “No! He's just someone I know. Why?” 

“Oh, because, well, you just looked so…sad when you were talking to him so I thought you guys had to separate because of our agency but I'm glad it isn't true you know! That would be really bad for you—” she babbled. 

You chuckled softly, cutting her off. “It's nothing like that, we were just…friends back then.” 

Friends… Your eyes lowered. “Yeah,” you said softly as if you needed the confirmation. “Friends. Back then.” Before everything went to shit. 

__________

It was raining when you got there. Armed with an umbrella, you looked up and studied the unimpressive building. Dark gray walls, peeling paint. Perhaps it looked depressing because you were projecting your mood onto it. 

You glancedat your phone. This was the right place but there was no sign of that obnoxiously yellow Mustang nearby. 

“Hah… Of course, why would he be at home at this time? He's likely to be partying at clubs,” you muttered bitterly. “What was I expecting?”

But you wanted to see him, just one last time before you put an end to this. You stood staring up at the building. A minute passed, before it turned to ten then thirty. Your phone lit up with a text: Hailey asking where you were and that it would be best to return now. 

Taking one last look at the message, you slid your phone back in your pocket and sat down along the wet sidewalk. Dirty water seeped through your clothes but it was the least of your worries. 

Thirty minutes turned to forty, then sixty. You finally stood up and started to walk, texting Hailey that you would be at the agency soon. 

The rainwater soaked your clothes, into your shoes and dripped down your back. The rain wasn’t letting up anytime soon, it seemed that it had intensified further. The only people on the streets were stragglers rushing for cover, likely overlooking how long the rain would last. 

Many took cover inside shops and restaurants. You didn’t and as you walked down the street, more than one head inside these stores turned. You didn’t need to turn to know what they were whispering about, some even poked their heads out to get a better look at you, their whispers clearly heard over the rain. “Hey, isn’t that [name], that K-pop idol?” “It looks like her but why would she be out in the rain like this?” “Nah, that’s not her. Probably just a lookalike.” 

So annoying. Being an idol had always been your dream, to sing and dance for a living didn’t seem that bad. But that wasn’t even the main reason you wanted to debut, you wanted attention. Yes, if you couldn’t get it from your family, then you would get it from complete strangers. Good or bad, it didn’t matter. Attention, recognition was all that mattered. So why did you feel that something was always missing? 

A shadow fell over you and you looked up. 

“Babo-yah, where’s your umbrella? It’s been raining for hours and you came out without one?” 

You stared blankly at the person holding his umbrella over the both of you. The person you had came all the way to see. “Hah…Guess I lost it.” You vaguely remembered letting go of your umbrella when you stood up from the sidewalk. 

Wooin tilted his head, and his eyes flicked over you. “You do realise your shirt is see-through?” 

“There’s nothing to look at anyways.” 

“I’d beg to differ. And while I would love to ogle…Why are you here?” 

You tugged at your wet hair. “Out for a walk.” 

“Bullshit.” 

You laughed softly to yourself. “You don’t sound too happy. Did your dealings go wrong today?” 

“Worry more about yourself than me. Anyways, we don’t have that relationship anymore.” 

“That's true.” 

Silence then he turned. “I'll walk you back. Or drive you back.” His tone clearly indicated how he thought of you as a huge inconvenience. “But my car's parked quite a distance—” 

“Can’t you just congratulate me?”

He turned. “What are you talking about? The cold’s getting to your head—“ 

“I worked so hard to get to where I am and you didn’t even say anything. Not a congratulations, not even a good for you. All you said when we finally met is ‘you made it’.”

Wooin let out a grunt of annoyance. “What are you yapping about now? I don’t have time to deal with your shit.” 

“It’s so stupid,” you whispered. “You said those hurtful things years ago and I can still clearly recall them but I still want, need your validation. When I knew I was going to debut, I didn’t tell my family, nor you because what good would it do telling people who didn’t give a shit? But I honestly just feel so…empty. It’s been that way since I’ve debuted.” You closed your eyes. “And seeing you again, made me realise that I just want to hear you say something. Please.” 

He didn’t answer, the only thing that answered you was the sounds of his breathing, barely audible over the sound of rain pit-pattering on the ground, seemingly getting heavier with each passing moment. 

You weren’t sure how long the both of you stood there in the rain, with only the sound of sheets of rain hammering rooftops accompanying the silence. It didn’t take long for you to finally come to the conclusion that he wasn’t going to say anything. In fact, he looked hella bored. His refusal to even grant you that small request, his refusal to even take you seriously shattered something in your chest that you didn’t know still existed after the year of the falling-out. 

People change. You just didn’t. You still hold onto that pathetic belief that everything will be the same. 

You felt numb, not the kind that came from the cold, but the realisation that the person you trusted most had already let go long before you did, that the moment you’d been avoiding had finally arrived, silent and inevitable. 

“Oh.” I guess, this really is the end. 

Wooin sighed. “Are you done with hysterics? Let’s get you back—” 

You turned away and walked. Away from him, away from that strand of hope you had been clinging on. Because the world didn’t stop for you, it’d moved on. And it was time for you to move on too. 

__________

Flashing lights, cameras shuttering furiously, and screams of adoration filling the air had become all too familiar to you. Waving serenely, plastering on smiles as you and your group members lined up at Incheon Airport, prepared to board your flight. 

“Gosh, our first world tour,” Hailey gushed beside you. “I’m so excited and look how many people turned up just to see us off! I’m so happy!” 

“I mirror your excitement, but tone it down a little? The cameras are watching,” you heard your group leader whisper earning a sheepish smile from Hailey. 

As the four of you walked towards the terminal, fans followed too, shoving phones in your faces, shouting questions that demanded an answer. It was all rather intrusive but you didn’t care, because this was the life that you had willingly stepped into. Attention— that was what you had always wanted. No matter how invasive, how negative, you would embrace it, accept it, let it burrow into you. 

You barely registered the chaos around you, it had all quietened into a dull buzzing at the back of your mind. You still smiled, you still nodded politely when jostling fans asked you questions. It shouldn’t come off as a surprise, you barely registered anything since your debut but you had hoped your condition had improved after seeing Wooin again— the source of your troubles and problems. But to what extent could you blame him? Was he really responsible for your suffering during tough times when you still fumed and dwelled on the fall-out? 

He moved on. You didn’t. 

Before long, your group settled into the airport lounge. Thankfully, no fans were allowed to follow, leaving a quiet space for the four of you to relax in before the flight. The staff left to check on some final arrangements, promising to return quickly. Leaning against your seat, you let out a sigh, rubbing at the spot in between your eyes. You could feel a headache starting to flare up, which was doing nothing to help with your mood. Hailey plopped down beside you, typing something on her phone. 

“I’m going to take a quick nap.” you said. “Wake me up before our flight?” Hailey nodded and you closed your eyes, drifting into an uneasy sleep. 

Watching your older sister smile brightly as she was serenaded with multiple large gifts and congratulatory wishes on her fifteenth birthday. Watching your older brother laugh with your parents as they praised him for acing his CSAT. Watching your relatives gush over your little sister for her mediocre kindergarten dance performance. 

Sitting alone in the dining room, candle flame flickering on the small slice of cake you bought for yourself. Sitting against your door, report card crumpled, trophies smashed as you recalled how your mother had dismissed your accomplishments as ‘useless’. Sitting alone in the dressing room, knowing that while other trainees' families were here to watch the dance performance, none of yours were here. 

His smile, so bright, as he joked with you, tugging at your hair playfully. His soothing voice as he talked you to sleep. His eyes that were full of life, gleaming with energy that pulled everyone around him. Warmth that lingered long after he looked away. 

A smile that no longer held that sincerity, cocky, mocking and off-putting. Narrowed eyes that now sparkled with calculated malicious intent. 

“[Name]?” 

Your eyes cracked open, and you winced as the bright lights from the lounge sliced into your corneas. As your eyes adjusted, you realised Hailey and your group leader were staring at you with concerned expressions. “Yes?” 

“Are you alright?” Hailey asked anxiously.

“Of course I am. Why do you think…” your voice trailed off as felt something cold slip down your cheek. 

“You were crying,” your group leader said gently. “Bad dream?” 

“I guess,” you replied as you wiped at the fallen tears. You didn’t really want to elaborate.

Your leader's expression showed that she understood completely. “The staff informed us we have to get moving in fifteen minutes. Would you like to use the washroom to freshen up before we go?” 

Blinking, it took a moment to register her words before you nodded. “Yes, I-I’ll do that. Thank you and sorry.” 

You staggered to your feet and hurried to the restroom, brushing off unshed tears, locking yourself in a stall. Burying your face in your hands, you mumbled, “That was so embarrassing,” It had been so long since you dreamt about your family, about Wooin. You hadn’t had these dreams ever since your debut which had been months ago. The first time you had those dreams, it was when you moved out of that suffocating household to be a trainee. The second time had been when you were stepping into the idol life, preparing for a life of attention and criticism. For you, these dreams indicated a new start to your life. You didn’t know what your episode earlier meant. 

Unlocking the stall, you went to the skin and splashed water on your face, trying to jolt yourself back to the present. The water was icy, your hands shaking violently, but it still couldn’t match the deeper cold gnawing at you from within. Get a grip, you scolded yourself, snapping the tap off. You gritted your teeth. Don’t be so pathetic. 

You walked out of the restroom, muttering to yourself, so distracted that you almost didn’t notice the person leaning against the wall, right in front of the door you just walked out of. It was only when you caught that gaudy jacket out of the corner of your eye did you stop and turn. 

Neither of you spoke. The look you were giving him was most likely one of disdain, and as much as you wanted to flip him off, scream at him, you still had an idol image to take care of. You didn’t want to acknowledge him since he very rudely dismissed your feelings that day. But you were a grown adult and thought yourself better than that. 

“Catching a flight?” You asked. 

Wooin observed you through his yellow tinted glasses. “Not really.” 

“Looking to get arrested? What are you doing loitering around outside the female restroom?” 

“Waiting for you.”

You expected your heart to flutter, your cheeks to redden but nothing happened. Your face remained as impassive as ever. “What do you want then?” 

If he was shocked at your lack of reaction, he didn’t show it. “So you’re off for your first world tour.” 

“Yes. Is that all? I have a flight to catch, right about—” you checked your phone “—now.” 

“Wait!” Wooin blurted out, taking a step forward and for a moment, he looked just like the boy you remembered: lonely, wounded, helpless. “I just want to say— well, I shouldn't have said those things, you know, from…back then.” He waved a careless hand. “So yeah.” 

You stared at him. “Is that it?” 

He looked rather taken aback from your lukewarm reaction. Obviously, he was expecting something more but a flip had switched in you and you just knew that whatever emotions, whatever thoughts you had before, were all irrelevant now. 

“Uh, yeah. But what the hell happened to you—” 

“I don’t know. I guess, I feel more free. I don’t have to…to…” You rubbed at your neck. “Worry about trivial things anymore.” 

The world moved on. And it’s time you did too. You don’t have to focus on things of the past. They’ve long been unnecessary. 

You smiled as you straightened. That dull thrumming in your ears had quite faded away. You took one last look at your childhood friend, the friend that you had sought companionship in, the friend who had always been there for you, the friend that you had once loved. The both of you had come this far, though not together. 

“Goodbye, Wooin. I hope you find success in whatever you might do in the future.” And with that, you walked away, head held high, the weight lifted from your shoulders. 

Because the two of you were now in different worlds and there was no need in bringing those worlds back together. It had long been that way after all. 

__________

Yanking the car door open, Wooin slumped in the driver’s seat, pinching the bridge of his nose, muttering about how he could have handled that better. “Is it so hard to apologise? No, it fucking isn’t. So why didn’t you, fucking piece of shit?” 

“What’s wrong with you?” A dry voice asked. Hyeok scrolled through his phone lazily, not bothering to spare his friend a glance. “Did she slap you or something? Because if she did, I wish I had been there to see it.” 

“Shut up,” Wooin snarled. 

“You dragged me here,” that bastard pointed out. “I think I’m entitled to my own opinions.” 

“She hates me, she definitely hates me,” Wooin muttered. 

“Oh, what else is new?” Hyeok said sarcastically, earning another dirty glare from Wooin. 

Letting out a huff, Wooin went back to brooding. He definitely could have handled that conversation better, perhaps he shouldn’t have sounded so cocky but that had always been his defense mechanism, his way of dealing with difficult situations. Ever since the fall-out, he never had a heart-to-heart, sincere conversation with anybody. Much less the need to apologise. Any form of disagreements could be settled with threats or fists. 

But even if he had apologised, he had a feeling you wouldn't have cared. Because he had seen that switch, how your eyes had flickered, how you had straightened, as if some unknown calmness had settled over you. So vastly different from the night in the rain, where you had looked so small, so vulnerable, so defeated. 

“It was inevitable that she would never forgive you anyway.” 

“Shut the fuck up.” 

“I'm being serious though,” Hyeok said, finally lifting his eyes from his screen to meet Wooin's. They were as dead as ever, no pity whatsoever for Wooin’s predicament. “Your relationship died the moment you told her to give up.” 

“Wait a moment, since when—” 

“We exchanged numbers. At the hospital,” Hyeok clarified. “We kept in contact because she was worried about you— and remained that way even after you ruined everything.” 

“You gave her my address?” 

“I did, and you went to screw up everything as usual.” 

Wooin's hands shot out to grab the male's jacket collar. “You—” 

Hyeok patted his hand, looking patient, how one might to a child. “Since I've been with you for years, I might as well tell you how you screwed up so badly. You're impulsive, yes. And that impulsiveness fueled your selfishness. You told [name] all that stuff because you knew you wouldn't make it; and if you couldn't, she couldn't either.” 

“That's not—” Wooin's voice cracked. 

“You wanted her to stay by you,” Hyeok said simply. “You wanted to drag her down so you could remain together. But her tenaciousness caught you off guard so you cut things off believing she would come back one day. She didn’t and ah, the rest is history.” 

Wooin wanted to get angry, but the dread, the reality of being confronted with the truth, all laid out to him, rendered him speechless. His grip on Hyeok's collar loosened and his friend pulled away, muttering about how his clothes were now all creased. 

A horrible, sinking feeling had settled in Wooin's stomach and he wished Hyeok's words hadn't hit so close to home. Flashes of the look of disbelief on your face, your outraged tone filtered back into his mind making his stomach churn. 

Truth was, Wooin always knew he didn't deserve you. For someone working so hard towards your dream and him who had given up, he was a piece of shit, someone who would only get in your way. That day, seeing how pleased you had looked with yourself, going on happily about your potential debut, uneasiness had risen in him. If you debuted, wouldn't he be left behind? You would be all successful, and what would he be? His fear had gotten the better of him and he had snapped, saying all those hurtful things that he didn't mean, but believed in. 

He cut off contact because he didn’t dare to face the consequences of what he had done. Because he was scared of facing you again, seeing that hurt in your eyes that he never quite forgot. With his father giving up on him, and you no longer there for him, he got involved in shady dealings, losing himself in these questionable transactions, meeting clients who only cared about the goods, and not who he was. 

“Let’s go,” Hyeok said, snapping Wooin out of his thoughts. “I have to get to work. You know…” He glanced at Wooin out of the corner of his eye. “It’s better if you just forget about her.” 

“What—” 

“You had your chance but you didn’t take it,” Hyeok said simply. “What’s more, you both live in different worlds now. She can’t be seen with someone like you. I highly doubt she would sacrifice her career for you especially after what you put her through so, just let it go. Anyways, let’s get going. If not, I'll be late for work.” 

His casual tone really pissed Wooin off but he couldn’t get mad— it was the truth. As Wooin started his Mustang, he couldn’t help but regret. Maybe if he had…But what good would dwelling on the past do? He had made his bed and so had you. 

He’d left you behind and you had too.

A/N: Gosh this was hella long and I rushed the ending because I really just wanted to get it over with since I am also rushing my other fic but to all those who made it here, thank you very much for staying to the end! Feedback is appreciated! I hope everyone has a great day/night ahead of them! :)