Cuba brings Wonbin terror. And so did his life. His own fatal mistakes brought him here, and that's not a secret. Letting those men into his home to make a fool out of him. Maybe he deserved this, the restrictions, the fear, biting skin and nails down to short bleeding nubs and letting the sting soothe him till his fingertips run numb.
His luggage still sits in the corner of the room untouched and collecting dust, like the bed sheets. He hasn't laid his head down on a plush surface in so long, binding himself to an uncomfortable seat in this run down town house. Anton would bring him chinese take out and that would satiate his hunger for a couple days before his stomach berates him for not eating.
He gazed out the open balcony awaiting the man's return with news. And maybe some more food. He's terribly hungry and the pipe between his lips only amplified the feeling.
Wonbin's greasy hair gently lifted from his face and blew back in response to Anton's sudden visit. He hoped foot to foot, his shoes stained and creased from the travel, thick hoodie hanging menacingly over his tired face. Wonbin eyed him up and down nervously, no longer hungry, even when Anton set the still hot take out on the coffee table. After, he chucked the familiar red duffle bag onto the mattress.
The speed hero doesn't look any better. He was avoiding Wonbin's gaze which in turn terrified him. “Jesus Christ. Where have you been? It's been days!-”
Anton cuts him off with a hug, tugging him up from the seat. “I've been handling business.” He whispered. “It's okay now.”
Wobbin's face lit up with anticipation. “You said I had to hide? You said I was in trouble?”
“I got it all worked out.” Anton says. “I actually have some.. Some good news.”
Wonbin squinted. “Good news?”
“Jungwoo.” Anton says. “He's open to us going public.”
Both men stare at each other for a beat. Anton's face was stuck in a strange crooked smile and his boyfriend's face remained unconvinced. Wonbin spoke carefully. “Don't joke around like that.”
“I swear!” Anton removes his hood and guides Wonbin back down into his seat. “Hand on a bible.” The speed hero promised and pulled a seat of his own to sit across from Wonbin.
“But, for us to go public,” Anton begins with a sigh. “I have to know who you told about compound V.” He sat back and awaited his answer, fidgeting with the drawstring of his dark sweats.
Wonbin deflated into his seat and chewed his bottom lip anxiously. His reply came, but not without a noticeable shiver in his voice. “I didn't tell anybody…”
Lie. The hero saw right through him. “Hey come on.” Anton frowned deeply, “this is you me.”
Wonbin stared back but never smiled at him. Anton shook his head slowly and chuckled. “I mean we're Bonnie and Clyde. Ride or die, right?”
The man's glossy eyes shot around the small room, Wonbin fought back the tears that threatened to burst from his sockets like it didn't make him look guilty enough. “Shit..” he huffed under his breath. He finally met Anton's gaze.
“I told these guys you were running the V down to that noodle shop.”
Anton's lips opened and shut, looking Wonbin over like some foreign creature making him gasp. “I'm so sorry, baby… I had to!”
“Why?” Anton asked, greatly curious. “What do they have on you?”
Wonbin shrugged off that question and sniffled, sitting up to get comfortable. “I don't know their names, but there was this Chinese guy? Dark hair, real smug asshole, probably forcing the british accent. Uhm, some loud psycho, definitely a serial killer. Tall and slightly swole guy with a short cut. And some skinny kid with two moles on his cheek.” Wobin explains, wiping his nose. “I think they were all working together.”
Anton's face fell the further he explained. Wonbin whimpered and took his hand. “And I'm so sorry! I fucked up so bad!” He cried. Anton doesn't meet his eye. “It's alright.” He said. “You know what I was thinking on my run over here?”
“Our first date.” Anton admits, he smiled bittersweetly towards Wonbin, who let out an airy laugh towards that, the final beads of tears trickling down his smiley face. He leaned forward like he’d been so focused on what Anton had to say.
Anton's heart ached looking over his boyfriend's face. “Most first dates, order like uh.. Salad, bottle of water,” He shook his head softly “You, Wonbin… got a dark bear, a New York strip, and a chocolate chip cheese cake.” Anton allowed his pained laugh to escape, happy to see Wonbin laughing with him.
“I remember thinking, here's someone who's not afraid to be happy.” Anton continued. “And I fell for you, right then and there… Thank you… I love you.”
Wonbin hadn’t been smiling much longer, rather straining himself as to not break down crying in his lover's face. “I…” Wonbin gulped and sniffled, eyes shooting wide open. His head felt heavy, too heavy, lulling back in an instant to the point he could no longer raise it. The needles were lodged deep into his exposed arms. Too many to count as Wonbin can’t stare any longer at what he’d done.
“I… love y-y.” Wonbin managed, the light leaving his eyes.
The room grew stiff and it wouldn't be long until the foul stench of rot would fill it. Anton doesn’t look back while he adjusted the straps of the duffle bag onto himself.
Anton doesn’t look back as he launches himself out the window and onto the street, arriving at the Seven tower in a pinch. The fastest he’d ever run. Tears long dried out by the wind.
Jaehyun was awaiting him at the end of the table, back turned to observe the natural blues of the sky. “A-train.” Jaehyun announced, spinning around to exude authority that shouldn’t make Anton shiver but it did, unable to control his heart rate. Jaehyun could hear it and Anton could see it on his face already.
Jaehyun grinned. “So?” He drags out.
Anton breathed out through his nose with slight irritation before he spoke. “Heroin overdose.” Jaehyun dropped the grin and feigned a sigh. “I’m sorry to hear that.” He said, zero guilt in his distant eyes. “And the V?”
Anton shrugged. “He told some guys about it- “
“No.” Jaehyun cut in. “I mean you.”
Both heroes are looking at one another now. Anton held a look of confusion forcing a snort out of Jaehyun. “Come on A-train.” He said, striding over towards the speedster, “You’ve been shooting it up for weeks. Think I wouldn’t notice?”
“I’m done, man.” Anton denied, “No I’m fucking done. Cold turkey.”
Jaehyun hummed in response like he didn't believe it and toyed with the leather of Chenle’s seat before pulling it out to sit down. “You know, you really screwed up, kiddo.” He says, looking up to pout his lips. “But you did the right thing by coming to me, Anton. I’m proud of you.”
Anton showed his gratitude towards him, as much as he didn’t want to. “Thanks, Imperium… for giving me the chance.” His voice quivered as he swung his hand up for an appreciative gesture that landed nowhere. That's when Jaehyun stood up abruptly. “Hey…” His arms were open, demanding a hug. Something so sentimental and off putting that Anton doesn’t know what else to do but accept and embrace the man till he’s close enough to sniff the hints of cocoa and honey from Jaehyun’s blonde locks.
“I love you, Anton. We’re family.” Jaehyun whispered. “I’ll always be watching over you.”
Anton let go and so did Jaehyun, already on his way to occupy his previous position by the window. The speedster is a mere foot out the meeting room when-
“Oh!” Jaehyun interrupts. “And Shotaro?”
Anton stopped in his tracks to ball his fist, turning. Jaehyun’s head was turned but Anton was certain he could see that smirk in the window's glistening reflection.
“I’ll find him, Imperium.”
“Massage the bird with olive oil, then a sprinkle of salt and pepper, then I bake.” Seunghan swiped a rag from off his shoulder, dancing around the beat up and dingy kitchen of the crumbling apartment he drove his unconscious friend to. The best idea had been proposed since the subway station debacle and it felt like it was just yesterday since he’d been assigned his ‘responsibility’ according to Johnny.
“Take the cunt…” Lucas had said in his accent. And since then Seunghan's been having the time of his life.
He gazed over his shoulder into the dirty unfurnished living room to the man pressed in the corner accompanied by a broken radiator. Seunghan smiled despite the scene and returned to the french dish he’d been preparing on his portable burner. He finished with the small round potatoes, setting them up on the only clean dish he could find in the cabinets and moved on to transferring the juicy meat onto it. He topped it off with a generous amount of asparagus on the side and sniffed at his work. A blissful sigh left him. “Basting every 20 minutes to keep it from drying out is very important.” Seunghan informed, stepping inside the living room. “... Till it’s crisp but not too crunchy..”
He nearly drops the plate dragging a small crate to the center of the room in between himself and the man. He adjusted the box a little more when he got the food on top of it and settled two complementary plastic utensils beside it. “And voilà.” Seunghan grinned, looking up to find the same unimpressed expression the man sported in the last few days. Seunghan got more comfortable on the ground and gave the man his best smile. “I think you understand me.” He points. “It's in your eyes.” Silence followed after and the food had yet to move into anyone's mouth. Not like he expected a verbal response. Seunghan could almost call it a waste having stolen the meat from a local market place. “Can you speak?” He said. “Tell me what you know. So we can find these fuckers who did this to you, so I can get you back home.” Seunghan pleaded. Something changed in the man’s eyes, a murderous look that couldn’t be misplaced. He crawled up at a threatening speed, reaching for Seunghan only for his dirty hands to stop inches away from his smirking face. The man glared holes into his eyes, his fingers still curling even for the slightest scratch.
Seunghan’s lips lifted ever so slightly in the corners. His sleazy chains and cuffs weren’t going to this man for too long.
The Expo was exactly how Chenle described it. Large tents, food trucks, superhero merchandisers, and pastors in every corner. And if it weren't enough, a massive stage to deliver grand speeches and striking performances about the great heavens.
But today may be a living hell if the sun decides to shine a little brighter. Jisung wasn't even sure why he decided to wear a jacket in 85 degree weather but he's regretting it. Chenle was the complete opposite, all smiles and covered in his golden stars like nothing could tear him down. He met him at the entrance, much earlier than preferred. Jisung wasn’t ready. In any other scenario he would've been delighted to run into the hero by coincidence. Not a set up such as this. Despite that, Jisung happily fell into stride beside Chenle.
“I like this outfit.” Jisung points out. “You know, the other one had…”
Chenle snorted just as he acknowledged it. “Oh, my God.” he laughed. Jisung does the same. “The other one had kind of like a, you know, a Nicki Minaj video extra thing going on.” Jisung said.
“Oh, yeah, the other one sucks.” Chenle agreed and flashed a subtle frown “They're only letting me wear this one because, apparently, it's family friendly. You know, Jisung, I'm surprised you came.”
“I seem to remember you inviting me.”
Chenle shook his head. “No, I mean, I'm glad you came.” He stops beside him squinting as if choosing his words. “You just... I don't know, you don't really strike me as the religious type.”
“Well, yeah, lapsed, but I served my time in Sunday school.”
A wrinkly old man hurried by, the stacks of bibles weighing heavy in his hold and affecting his journey to a nearby booth. “Hey, Starboy.” He greeted the hero loudly.
“Hi.” Chenle waved back as they moved along. Mild curiosity grew inside Jisung. Asking a few questions wouldn’t hurt. Jisung jabs the man with his elbow. “Okay, so, do you know everybody here, or just, like, 99.9 percent?”
“No.” Chenle admitted bluntly. “My mom and I, we would drive coast to coast in her brown Honda Civic, just doing the whole Christian Circuit thing. You know, Power Fest, Capes for Christ, Believe Expo. We wore the tires off of that car.” Jisung followed along while Chenle gestured around them. “These people are like family to me. After everything that's happened, it's actually... it's really nice to see them again.”
Like a disturbance in the air, his mother would emerge from a group of stage technicians, all smiles. “Sweetheart.” she greets Chenle before moving in to place a loving kiss on his cheek. The hero looked a little embarrassed, considering the man beside him. “Mom! Hi.” Chenle greeted her. Gyuri grew a little red in the cheeks while brushing a few strands back. The heat must have been catching up to her. Chenle quickly checked himself. “How was your flight?” he asked.
“Oh, it was a nightmare.” Gyuri starts, “We sat on the runway for 45 minutes, and then there was all the, you know, Flight 127 stuff.” The stress was evident in her eyes but she waves it off. “But a Xanax and a couple of pinot grigio later, here I am.” Suddenly she's looking at Jisung as if she'd finally cared enough to notice him. “Oh, hello.” She said, pointing at him. “Do you want an autograph? Honey, give him an autograph.”
Chenle waved his hands in refusal, looking back and forth between them. “Oh, no, no.”
“We... I mean, I know him.” Jisung chuckled nervously. “I mean, I don't... Yeah.”
“We know each other. Yes.” Chenle corrected.
Jisung had no other choice but to agree to make it less awkward. “...Yeah.” He says.
Chenle's mother looked him over countless times without saying anything. Was the concept of her son having friends so foreign? She spoke to him after a moment. “Oh, do you work at NeoTech?”
Chenle moved up to stand in front of the taller man to defend him. “No. No, no, no. Mom, this is Jisung. He's a friend.” Chenle replied. His mothers eyes eased off him slowly and back onto Jisung. “Hi.” She said, sounding confused. "How nice.”
Kun cleared his throat just as he strolled over. “Starboy. Are you hydrating?” His smile faltered in the slightest towards Gyuri. “Hey, Gyuri. How was your flight?”
Kun moved on from her just when the woman was to repeat her activities. He checked his watch and his clipboard packed with thick pages. Jisung felt anxious for him, that clipboard was barely holding on, and the infamous manager didn't look any better.
“You have that "Teen Roundtable" in 15, are you ready?”
“Oh, he was born ready. I should know, I was there.” Gyuri insisted, grabbing onto Chenle's arm and moving beside him to show him off. If Kun had to stare at the woman any longer than he might just lose it. “Great,” he said to satisfy the woman. He glared at the back of her head as they walked away together. Gyuri moves on to talk about her day once more.
Chenle faces Jisung once they're alone again, finally. “Do you want to come?” the hero asked, sounding hopeful.
Jisung frowned. This could throw off the plan as it was far too risky. “You know what?” he pretends to hesitate. “I'll let you go ahead. Go round table those teens, Starboy.” Jisung joked.
Chenle threw his head back to roll his eyes. “We'll catch up later, Jisung?” He asked.
“So, Jesus…” Mark said proudly into the microphone. He looks up to the sky after his long pause to cup his hands like a prayer and press it to his lips. White tank top and skinny jeans making him stick out even more as if he weren’t the only person on stage.
“Jesus said, "Hey, bro, bring it in. You shouldn't need proof. You should just believe because I say so, because you have…. faith!” Mark was on one knee by now for dramatic effect and the moment he stands the crowd goes wild. “People who have faith, those are my peeps, y'all. That's what Jesus said. But I am gonna ask you one question…”
Lucas stopped listening to some extent, busy scoping out the area and every visible gun holster in sight. “Two twats at every entrance, armed to holy hell.” He tsked in distaste, not just towards Mark’s repetitive speech but every braindead idiot surrounding them in the crowd. “In church.” He added.
Jisung shrugged, looking over to whisper. “Well, it’s SM, decent security might be the biggest surprise of today.”
“And God's watching from up above.” Johnny commented and pointed around the stage set up and the booths behind them. “Right there. Over there…” He could go on and that was far too worrisome.
“Yeah.” Lucas hummed in subtle dissatisfaction, squint barely visible behind his shades. “Security's tighter than a choir boy's asshole.” He informed.
“So let me ask you something.” Mark said, capturing their attention back to the stage. “Why can Jesus walk on water?” He asked, receiving no actual answers but a bundled mess of cheering. He smirked regardless, face projected onto the giant screen behind him in case you miss it. “Why does Imperium fly? How about A-Train, why does he get to run the way he runs?” Mark moved to the center of the stage and spread his arms out wide like when you’d offer a hug. His skin stretched out till his arms were meters away from him. Mark gave a cocky chuckle. “Or, how do I get to hold the whole world in my loving embrace?”
Jisung moved his focus and opened up the pamphlet he’d been provided earlier for joining this speech as did the other two. Lucas had already crumpled his own pamphlet and so did Johnny.
Jisung gets past the photoshopped golden balloons and confetti behind Mark’s face and flips the page to read through the admission fee. “Fifteen thousand dollars?” He gawked. “For an exclusive VIP experience with Mark. Seriously?” Jisung asked, “There's not an easier, cheaper way for us to get to him?”
Lucas moved along past him and out the crowd towards the walkway of booths. Jisung followed behind him with Johnny. Lucas looks to Jisung, “We ain't getting to Mark. You are.” Lucas says.
“Whoa, wait. What?” Johnny’s mouth fell in confusion. Lucas turned in full smoothing back his dark hair. Possibly the most work he'd put into looking presentable.
“Well… Starboy's one of the headliners, right?” Lucas says, flicking his hands like it were obvious. “he'll get you in.”
Jisung could already imagine Chenle’s disappointment for even asking. “Look,” he started, “we've only been on, like, a date and a half, okay? I can't just ask him for a Neo Club Pass.”
“And what's the matter?” Lucas slid his shades off to really look at Jisung. “Worried your fake Supe boylfriend's gonna think you're using him?” Lucas questioned. Jisung’s stomach fluttered at the accusation that was not too far off from the truth. He crossed his arms and scoffed. “Okay, then what? I go up to Mark, what's up with you smuggling green dope into market basements?” He said in a golly voice you'd only use on a sock puppet.
Lucas nods. “Yeah, pretty much. Once you show him this.” He’s holding out his phone in no time with overhead footage taken in a terribly familiar location.
“Jesus.” Jisung cringed. “This is from that club you took me to?” He looks up from Mark being spitroasted on the screen. Lucas grinned wide. “You remembered our first night together. I'm touched.” He said. The taller man between them pushed the phone away and groaned. “Why is this the first time I'm hearing about this plan?” Johnny questioned. “This kid needs to be trained up, Lucas.” He juts his chin towards Jisung, who agrees. “Yeah. Yeah, what he said.” Jisung stutters. “I- I don't know how to blackmail anybody.”
Lucas scanned around them and moved in closer to whisper, “Jisung, you've done a murder.” He says through a tiny smirk, “Comparatively speaking, this will be a piece of cake.” When Lucas stepped off somewhere, Jisung could do nothing else but think about his decisions and Johnny could read it right from his face. “I know.” Johnny apologized, knowing his input would mean nothing. “...I know.”
“We're here today to remember the victims of Trans-Oceanic Flight 127.” Jaehyun’s remorseful gaze checked over the attendees outside the funeral home in the rows of plastic chairs before reaching for the folded note prepared for him on the podium. “One hundred and twenty-three brave souls lost in an instant, in a senseless act of violence.” He began.
The empty pit in Ten’s stomach was far deeper than he thought. It was like the universe would trap him into mother earth's soil and keep him there to punish him like the many families forced to bury the empty caskets of their loved ones in the ground. The frames, the beautiful frames in the hands of grieving siblings, wives, and husbands in their seats. Ten could’ve done something, should have done something. His throat was burning and sore from the retching, he couldn’t keep anything down, guilt eating away at his body more than anything. He struggled to focus on other things, the tightness of his suit cuffs, the glossy polish of his shoes, the must of the lake, shitty movies, happy moments, anything to keep him from focusing on Jaehyun’s speech put together at the last second by some poor employee running on an A-Train energy drink.
Jaehyun sighs, watching Ten storm off the stage from the corner of his eye.
“We are all truly sorry for your loss.” A short round of clapping and thank you’s come from the grieving families. Jaehyun stepped off the podium in search of Ten. He didn’t get far, finding him hunched over on a bench peering off into the far waters leading towards another connecting city in the distance. A pretty sight indeed.
“Where'd you go?” Jaehyun asked as he approached. He stops right beside Ten to stare down at his conflicted expression. Ten finally gazed up at him. “The only thing I hate more than blubbering people are boring speeches.” Ten tried to joke but it fell short.
“Right.” Jaehyun agreed, never laughing as he moved to join him on the bench. “You remember that nutjob in Albany last year?” He asked. “Killed his wife, and he came out of the house with a gun at his daughter's head. Remember that? Cops pissing their pants, didn't know what to do. And then you... You…” Ten didn't react even when the gloved hand landed on his knee cap and shook it.
Jaehyun smirked. “You step up very calmly, ask for the sergeant's Bic pen and fling it 26 yards, right into the asshole's eyeball.” He said.
Ten sniffled. “Dead shot, dead shooter. What's your point?”
“My point is that you took action. That's what I love about you, Ten.”
Jaehyun frowned at the lack of reply. “Look, nobody wanted that airplane to go down the way it did, of course not. And now... we got to make the best of it. Otherwise…” He gazes off into the lake. “Well, otherwise, it was all for nothing.”
Ten turned to face him with a sad smile even when he tried to hide it. Jaehyun was probably the worst person to confide in but he knew what to say and how to say it. Ten could appreciate that at least from the psychopath. Maybe he could bear this, just a little longer. Ten tossed him a questionable look.
“What did I tell you about boring speeches?”
Chenle moved on autopilot beside his mother. The grass stains were already making work of his white boots under his feet. They're in an area with few booths but enough advertisements to make your head hurt. The round table was just up ahead in the largest white tent up ahead. Chenle couldn’t focus on it, mostly stuck on an oddly placed posterboard of Jaehyun posing in front of a plane. “Impure thoughts? Fly straight…” He mouthed, reading it. He stops in his place now. Neotech’s damage control needs to be studied, and maybe better thought out.
Chenle pointed to it. “Mom, when did that happen?”
Gyuri continued on without him, glancing at it once. “What are you talking about? That's always been there.” She says.
Chenle tried to move along, finding himself stopping once again at the sky blue banner hung up behind the poster board. A math equation, just without the numbers. Instead was a man and a woman, being the only proper solution to marriage.
“Chenle!” His mother hissed and snapped her fingers. She was already by the entrance of the tent. Chenle flinched at the unexpected action but hurried towards her.
The “round table” was neatly set up with chairs in a large circle, no table of course, they never included a table in these which was always so odd to him considering the name. An empty seat awaited him and so did the stressed pastor. The man’s hands were already on Chenle and pulling him over and down into his seat. He looks to where he came from and his mother is already making her exit. Not even sparing him a second glance.
“I know what you're all thinking,” The pastor begins as he reclaims his seat beside the hero. “Holy mackerel, Starboy? From the Seven? Here with us? Well, I knew him when he was still in shorts and braces and he'd sit right where you're sitting.”
Chenle puts Kun’s customer service class to use and takes a moment to give a reassuring smile to every teen around him. They all look a breeze away from vomiting on each other but it was worth it. He takes a moment to look over the pastor's wide smile. It was almost funny cause he’s never seen this man a day in his life.
“So don't be shy. You ask what's on your mind.” The man said and looked at Chenle. “Starboy is here for you.” Soon a hand came up in the circle.
“Yeah?” The pastor encourages. The young lady who had been selected failed to meet Chenle’s eye while she smoothed down her yellow floral print blouse. “I have this friend from my soccer team, Lara, she's Hindu. I know it's kind of my responsibility, I guess, to get her to accept Jesus, but it feels weird to me.” She explained, a subtle blush casting over her dark cheeks.
Chenle almost stuttered. “W- well, Jesus also says to love your neighbour.” He gets out as clearly as possible. The pastor shook his head. “But if you love your neighbour, don't you want to save them from damnation? You have to look at it as good news. You have a chance to help your friend find eternal life, right?” Chenle could do nothing but nod and agree until the next hand came up. This time a tall kid sporting a translucent t-shirt.
“Have you ever had a girlfriend?”
“Well, yeah.” Chenle answered honestly. “..Yeah, I was with this girl, Yeri for a while. She was kind, we dated for almost a year.” He doesn’t have much to say or think about that relationship when it was clear neither of them liked one another, using each other as a clutch for acceptance. Yeri loved Ryunjin and Chenle was okay with that, he liked men and she liked women more.
A hand came up, another young girl struggling to smile with her braces.
“Yeah?” Chenle points. She takes a minute to adjust in her seat like she was preparing to tell a horrible secret. “Did you have... sex with her?” She finally asked. The other girls around were giggling now awaiting his response.
“Well, I…” The hero paused. “you know, I think, I think everyone hopes that their first is the one. And... it's private, but…” He thought about being honest again when he noticed the stern look from Kun by the entrance and the pastor beside him. “I'm a virgin.” Chenle states and clears his throat. “Yeah, I'm... saving myself for my future wife.”
“See?” The pastor marveled. “Hebrews 13:4. Let the bed be undefiled, for God will judge the sexually immoral.”
Chenle could tell he wouldn’t enjoy this day any further.
Lucas chewed through his overpriced concession popcorn rather rudely.
“I'm not really sure what you're saying, son.” The old looking lad working the choir retreat booth made the mistake of heckling Lucas to sign a page or two and is now battling on his urge to leave the booth. Lucas almost chokes on the next piece of the popcorn he tossed in his mouth. “I'm saying if there is some geezer up there with a big white beard, he's a world heavyweight cunt.”
“What?” The man goes offly pale. “I'm sorry, did you just call God a C-word?”
“Yeah.” Lucas said. “He's got a hard-on for mass murder and giving kids cancer, and his big old answer to the existential clusterfuck that is humanity is to nail his own bleeding son to a plank.” Lucas points a popcorn at the man. “That is a cunt move. Even you got to agree with me there.”
Johnny grasped at Lucas’s shoulder. The old man looked lost for words but it just kept coming. “Hey, please.” Johnny pulled on Lucas some more but the man stood still like his feet were screwed to the dirt below him. “We should lob a fucking nuke at him, get it over and done with. You know what I'm saying?”
“We're sorry, sir.” Johnny hurried to say. “We apologize.” For once Lucas was no longer up the man’s ass. He looks at Johnny. “All right. Good talk.” Lucas said and winked at the booth worker. “Think about it. I'm here all day, all right?”
“You mind piping it down just a little bit?” Asked Johnny as soon as they were away. Lucas rolled his eyes. “I'm sorry. Didn't mean to offend your inner Baptist mom shouting, Praise the Lord!”
“Fuck you, I'm christian.” Johnny says. “And there's nothing wrong with having a little church up in you, you know?” They round the corner around the many tents running into Jisung by a stall selling religious t-shirts.
“Said the bishop to the nun.” Lucas muttered, “What about you, Jisung?”
Jisung noticed them and raised an eyebrow.
“You believe in God?” Lucas finally asked. Jisung seems to think about it before shrugging it off as if he couldn’t find the right response. “I mean, I don't know.”
“What?” Lucas scoffed. “Come off it.”
“Yeah, I don't know. I don't think it's Morgan Freeman up there or anything, but it can't all be random chaos.” Jisung said. Lucas grumbled in response. “So you think that what happened to Sion was some kind of divine intervention? Is that what you're saying?”
Jisung’s face ran through every emotion until it settled on defeat. What could he even say to that?
Johnny frowned deeply. “Lucas, really?…”
Lucas waves Johnny off, already digging around his pockets when his phone begins to ring. “Hang about….” Lucas mumbled, walking off to tend to his call.
“So what were you supposed to say? Yes, I've had premarital sex, go nuts?”
Chenle’s lips curled in disgust hearing his own mother. “Well, I'm pretty sure I wasn't supposed to lie to them, Mom.” He responds.
Gyuri stopped her walk to pause beside him. “Oh, baby. You're Starboy of the Seven. Millions of kids are looking up to you now. You're a shining light to them.”
Chenle’s eyes fell to the floor. “How am I supposed to live up to that?” He muttered.
“Because that's the way God made you.” She answered, placing her hands on either side of his face to raise it. “You're a miracle, Chenle… You're my miracle.”
“Hey…” Jisung approached slowly after gathering enough courage, and maybe to get away from how hard Johnny and Lucas had been staring. “Hey, you two. How's it going?”
Chenle took his mothers hands and gave them a soft reassuring squeeze. “You know what? I'll catch up.” Her once happy face changed to mild concern for him. “You sure?” The hero nodded maybe a bit urgently to get her away. He doesn’t want to imagine the questions to come on the next round table session.
From the tents opening Johnny stuffed his head into his spread out pamphlet unlike any average human being who knows how to read. He wasn’t but he was making it far too obvious he was eavesdropping on Jisung’s little situation. Lucas nudges him. “Keep an eye on Jisung, all right?”
Johnny checked over his shoulder for Lucas to find him walking away. “Where the fuck are you going?”
“Just do it.” Lucas replied. A vague response, nothing new to Johnny.
Jisung gulped. “You okay?” Chenle seems to come back to earth, barely holding on to a smile. “Fine.” He said. It wasn’t convincing no one and Chenle knew that. “It's just... this place isn't what I remember.” he admits.
“Hey…” Jisung stepped in closer. To some extent he had no idea how to comfort the man and he knows this whole scheme was cruel. It was cruel to use Chenle, the only supe Jisung had some bitter faith in, and right now the hero looked like he’d been struggling to keep his composure. Jisung couldn’t help the feeling of concern as it filled him. He wants to hold Chenle for reassurance.
Jisung’s eyes moved off the hero’s gaze to lock onto someone that makes his heart sink to the deepest pit in his stomach. Sion stood right behind Chenle as if warning Jisung with his cold, dread filled eyes. Fear swelled within Jisung in a matter of seconds but so did anger. He clenched his fist hard till his fingernails began to irritate the skin of his palms.
Chenle spun around, taking in what he supposed Jisung was gazing at. “Jisung?” He calls when he spots nothing.
Jisung’s eyes snap back onto him sharply. “Hey, can I ask you something?” He cheerfully spoke through a forced grin when the hero's attention returned.
Chenle’s lips part. Maybe he got a little excited. “Anything!” He encourages.
“Is there any way you could hook me up with one of those Neo Club passes?” Jisung shifted on his feet nervously. “You know, to see Mark?” At this point Jisung could tell how put off the request had put the man and it made him stumble on his words. “I mean, I couldn't get one unless I robbed a bank. But... you know.”
Chenle’s brow raised in disappointment. “...Mark?” he asked and Jisung bounced his head.
“Yeah. Yeah… Uhm.. Okay. Confession time. My dad is, like, Mark's number one fan.” Jisung explains. He bit his lip and bounced his shoulders. “So what do you think? Pull a few strings, you know? Hook me up with some tickets?”
“Yeah…” Chenle hesitated to agree. “Yeah. Sure, of course. It's the least I could do for you, Jisung.”
Kun smacked at every reaching hand in sight. Boney, greasy, scabbed, calloused, you name it. Crowds were quite the handful on their own, and Kun knows that especially around someone as the likes of Imperium. But the amount was far too excessive in comparison to the space around the festival grounds.
He could remember Jungwoo running around his office yesterday all excited to put his responsibilities onto him like everyone else. It’s so easy? yeah right. Kun was struggling to guide Jaehyun to the baptism tent and trying his damndest to not unclip the pen from his clipboard and stab it deep into his own throat.
“WATCH THE HANDS!” Kun screeches, now swinging his clipboard till they get the point. In contrast Jaehyun cranked the charm up to the max, feeling completely new in his black Stuart Hughes suit. The hero couldn’t be bothered to change back into his costume for an event such as this one. He walked fast beside the manager, making sure to sweep his blonde bangs back every few seconds to get a reaction from the ladies following.
“IMPERIUM I LOVE YOU!!!!” “KISS ME!” “KICK ASS IMPERIUM!”
“Great, thanks for coming along!” Jaehyun shouted back, noticing they’re about to enter the tent. “God bless you guys! Thanks! God bless you one and all!” Paparazzi snapped a generous amount of photos. Kun groaned loudly in relief when they reached the white cloth. He pulls it up allowing for Jaehyun to enter before following behind him.
“Take care now.” Jaehyun says “Keep believing!”
“LET ME LICK YOUR HAPPY TRAIL, IMPERIUM!”
“Haha!” Jaehyun shouted out his final thanks before blocking off their sights. “What the fuck?” His smirk and the cheerful demeanor were all history now. He stormed past the equally disgusted Kun towards a table to snatch a water bottle from it. He’s snapping his fingers at Kun the next second. “Grab Jungwoo.” Jaehyun demands coldly and reaches further on the table for a folder, shaking it at the man. “I need to talk to him about these fucking talking points.”
“Mr. Kim isn't here today.” Kun says. “I thought you knew that. But I'm here to help you with anything, I'll go through the talk -”
“Kun,” Jaehyun said. He’s heading towards the man, who hugged his clipboard. He knows it wouldn't help him in this situation. Kun gulped and Jaehyun’s eyes followed the bob of his adams apple until they locked eyes.
Jungwoo pulled into the clinic and found his parking spot in no time. The sun beat down on his skin when he stepped outside and slugged open the back seat to unbuckle his daughter from the carseat. Her chubby little cheeks lit up, nearly smacking him with her rattle. It jingles when it falls. Jungwoo grumbled and crouched down to pick it up. The ache in his back wouldn’t be the worst of his problems if it weren’t for the man standing a few feet away from him.
Jungwoo straightened up with the loudest sight. “What are you doing here?”
Jaehyun frowned. “Skipping work now?” In response Jungwoo pointed out the building and retrieved his daughter from her seat. “I am taking Harvey to the pediatrician.” He said.
“I've already rescheduled three times.” Jungwoo says. “What is the emergency?”
“Yes. My speech.” Jaehyun raised the near crumpled folder and flipped it open to a random page. “It reads like corporate fucking mayonnaise. We're talking Believe here. These are my people! -”
“But you're not just talking to them, Jaehyun. Every dove and Democrat in Congress is going to be watching you on the news.” Jungwoo tilted his head innocently, pleased to see the man was courteous enough to look presentable. “You need to appear moderate.”
“No!” Jaehyun spat. Jungwoo turned away to wrap his baby up in his blanket. Jaehyun closed the folder and pinched down his blazer before he approached. “Jungwoo, there is an opportunity here. People are scared. They don't trust the president or the coastal elite, and they hate foreigners.” Jaehyun professed. “What they want is a little John Wayne frontier justice. And that is what I do. Don't forget, it was me that saved that Flight 127 thing.”
Jungwoo scoffed very loudly. Jaehyun felt his eye twitch “I turned that into a win.” He waved in between them. “For us.”
Jungwoo narrowed his gaze and his frizzled hair didn't help. “You're really gonna talk to me about saving Flight 127?” He asked seriously and the hero shrugged. “Well, why wouldn't I?” Jaehyun asked.
“Look,” Jungwoo says. “can I please just talk to you later? The speech is perfect. Trust me.-”
“-Trust you?” Jaehyun nods his head and looks away. “Okay. That's what you always say. You're not even fucking listening to me, Jungwoo. You're so full of shit!” From the looks of it, Jungwoo was more focused on the baby. Jaehyun nearly stomped his foot like a child. “You say you want my input, but you don't.”
“Yes, I do.” Jungwoo said anxiously.
“No, you don't.” Jaehyun fumes. “And you never did.”
“I do. Can we please just talk later?” Jungwoo was already prepared to enter the building, he just needed to lock the car and whatever comes out of Jaehyun will have to wait later-
“Why? You gonna run off and play strong single dad? Please…” Jaehyun crossed his arms in annoyance. “That baby is an accessory.” The heavy car door slammed, loud and angry and Jungwoo’s sharp eyes were enough to confuse Jaehyun.
“We need boundaries!” Jungwoo declared, pressing onto his keys to lock up the vehicle. The little *beep beep* chimes as he turns his back to Jaehyun to head towards the clinic.
Jaehyun has been pissed with the man before, but not like now. Jungwoo wasn’t at fault, Jaehyun just couldn’t blame him on a whim for something as little as a poor speech. The hair, the bags under his eyes, the way he looked at Jaehyun today. Truly there's was only one person to blame for it all-
“Haha!” Harvey’s little eyes lit up as she laughed and bounced over Jungwoo’s shoulder. If she can laugh and berate someone like him then he could only imagine what Jungwoo has to go through.
This bedroom never changed since the day he bought this apartment for him. Nothing much had moved since no one had been here to occupy the space. Sheets pulled back but slightly tattered on Wonbin’s favorite side. His hoodies were thrown around the room along with Anton’s own. Wonbin wasn’t coming back and no amount of compound V would do the trick.
Anton stationed himself at the edge of the bed, eyes trained onto the screen while the remote was pressed to his smile. A movie plays, The Sirens 1, Wonbin’s debut film. His acting was shit, absolutely horrible, something they would both laugh at together on a random night. Anton chuckled, skipping to every scene that he knew he’d find Wonbin in just to see his face, alive and untouchable. His gaze carefully drifted from the screen and towards the corner of the room. The stuffed bear, something he won for Wonbin long ago at a fair. He could’ve asked the worker for it considering it was his own merchandise but he had to win it. Win it for Wonbin. It was more of a decoration now, to the naked eye that's all it was. Anton stood up and crossed the room to retrieve it. He moves back onto the bed and hesitates for a moment to reach behind it to dig out the chip in the recording device to stick it into the router connected to the television. The movie cut off in an instant as footage of himself and Wonbin fucking replaced it. Moans filled the room through the speaker and Anton couldn’t stop himself from laughing out loud, leaning back to retrieve the remote behind him to change the footage.
“You're a filthy pig who likes to eat ass.” Wonbin screamed.
Anton’s jaw fell open towards the screen, horrified when the building’s late landlord’s skull burst open under Wonbin’s bare ass. Anton shot up from the mattress ready to click the footage off and maybe destroy the television when two indistinguishable voices began to speak to the horrified Wonbin.
On the screen, the entrance just to his left, Anton could make out the face of one of the men, hands out in an attempt to ease the panicked man. The footage is paused and the speed hero is at eye damaging distance to the television to analyze the man’s face until he wasn’t.
The crime analytics floor wasn’t a foreign area for Anton, far from it. His patients was wearing far too thin while watching Felix jingle his keys against the hard plastic of the id card around his neck. Before he could open his mouth, Felix snatched three fresh prints the machine spit out and passed it over to him. “So, this guy's got 34 addresses and at least a dozen aliases.” Felix finished strolling back over to his desk. Sicheng was kind enough to agree when Anton informed him of his issue. Or at least he thinks so, he had no time to question Sicheng’s edgy act. Anton returned to the three prints of the footage he so carefully analyzed. Felix stimmed by clicking the computer mouse through all the photos.
“So, who the hell is he?”
“Something we're running down on our own.” Anton replied.
Judgment flooded Felix’s face, choosing to glance back and forth between Black Noir and A-train curiously. “Since when do you guys run down stuff alone?” He asked.
“Felix…” Anton groaned. The employee spun around in his rolling chair while the countless id photos of this man changed rapidly on the monitor. “Yeah?” He asked.
“Shut up.” He answered, setting the pages down to point to the screen. “Where do we start?”
Felix scrolled through the pictures. This criminal was dedicated, stuck on mustaches, thick or thin brows, long hair, short hair, no hair, you name it. The scrolling comes to a stop on the most conventional photo. The analyst’s thin finger lands on a name beside the photo.
Jisung actually made it in. And wouldn’t you have guessed, it looks like every other tent he’d been under with the only exception being Mark and the other folk around him jumping out of their pants to be baptised in the pool. It was a sizable one, in eye shot and in the connecting tent behind the makeshift curtains where Mark stood conversing with another group. Jisung had to admit he still felt a tad bit anxious over pestering Chenle for something like this but he’s helping a lot more than he could ever imagine.
Jisung spun around so fast he could get whiplash. The last person he ever thought he’d be speaking to appeared before him.
“Jisung, right?” Imperium’s pearly white teeth, his prominent dimple. Jisung could almost feel his intestines rushing for his asshole. In the hero’s hand he held out a generous wine glass filled with orange juice.
“Right? You're Starboy's friend. He got you in here.” Jaehyun continued holding his hand out awaiting a response from Jisung, who grasped the cup when he realized this was real. “Y- Yeah.” Jisung staggered out, making Imperium laugh. “There you go, Jisung!” The hero’s voice applauded as he shook it. “Good to meet you, pal.”
Jisung nodded along with him and found a smile of his own, a scary one, but still a smile. “Good to meet you, too!” Jaehyun eventually let go to rest his hand on his hip. “How do you know Starboy?” The abrupt question was enough to make Jisung stutter. “You know, we met, like, a few weeks ago, actually.” He answered honestly.
Jaehyun’s eyes widened. “Really?”
“And he got you in here?”
“Oh, this is a pricey ticket, Jisung.”Jaehyun squinted, a playful smirk on his face. “You must be a special guy…”
“I…” It takes a moment for Jisung to relax himself. “No. No, I'm not… I just feel lucky to be here... Really.” Someone cleared their throat calling for the majority’s attention. Jisung looks away from Jaehyun in search of Mark’s face.
“Ladies and gentlemen, I would like to welcome you one and all.” Mark began gesturing out to where Jisung stood. “And I would very much like to welcome... Imperium, our special guest.”
Jaehyun waved around, face screaming “Yeah, that's right.” towards everyone. Jisung glances back at him not expecting him to be staring right back.
Mark clasped his hands together. “So, without further ado, if you would follow me.” He steps over towards the curtain to open it. “Gather round, everybody.” Mark ordered. “Now, as many of you may already know, Imperium is an ordained minister in Samaritan's Embrace. Together, we will be rebaptising you, my most loyal followers.” The relief flushed through Jisung as soon as Jaehyun walked past him to follow Mark up the steps of the large wooden baptistery pool. The drenched and glistening church goers were walking out jittering their teeth in no time. One by one, all appeared so happy despite how disinterested imperium appeared holding them under the water. Jisung shivered. He was next. Mark was patiently waiting for him to ascend the steps. Jisung grabbed the wooden beam to brace himself on the way up and down the mere six steps of both cases and into the water. His pants were sticking to his calves like a vacuum seal and the water was shockingly cold, but he couldn’t pay much attention to it with his eyes locked onto Jaehyun’s, not even what Mark was saying.
“On this blessed day, you will be reborn a Christian.” Mark said. “You will be washed clean of all your sins.” He’s guided over to Imperium, meeting him right in the middle. Jisung nervously took the hero’s open hands that pulled him closer and moved higher to wrap around his shoulders. “Something wrong, Jisung?” Jaehyun asked..
“No.” Jisung says, looking into the man’s empty eyes. “No, I'm totally comfortable, Imperium. Why would you ask that?”
“Well, your blood pressure's 150 over 90. It's a bit high.”
Jisung knew that already, he could actively feel his heart trying to rip from his chest. “Yeah, sorry. Just…” He licked his dry and cracked lips. “I'm afraid of water.” He lies.
Jaehyun’s once serious face almost softened, a short throaty laugh. “Don't panic.” He said. “I got you, Jisung.” His hands would trail down to take Jisung’s shaking wrists to help press his arms in an x formation across his chest. “Do you accept the Lord, our Father, as your Saviour, and Jesus… as his son?” Jaehyun whispered.
Jaehyun’s warm hands crept up and began messaging into the flesh of his neck, his calming tone passing through Jisung’s mind as if he’d only been preparing to gently coax him into the water. “Then I baptise you in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit-”
Despite the hold around his wrist, Jisung freed a hand and clasped his nostrils shut. He felt the wind get knocked out of him by the great force used to submerge him. The water found room in his ear canals but he doesn’t have extra hands to cover them. Adrenaline forced him to peel his eyes open under the water and it was like Satan incarnate staring down on him with his eerie grin. He’s pulled from the water once and for all, coughing till his throat burns while attempting to wipe the sting from his eyes. Jaehyun was all too happy, patting his shoulders as if silently congratulating him. He knows the drenched state of his hair makes him look like a sad mushroom. Just a quick assessment considering how Mark was trying not to laugh.
Jaehyun wiped the wet hair aside for him. “God bless.” He bidded Jisung before letting go to fetch a towel for him. All the young man could say was thank you on the way out the pool, Jisung was utterly convinced he would drown. He had to get through the shock of it. And so he did, drying himself off with the same damp towel in a corner until the final few were baptised and the event came to its awaited end. Jaehyun’s exit went unnoticed but Mark was kind enough to see everyone off.
“Thank you for coming. May the light of God shine in your eyes!” Mark thanked and shook hands as they went. This gave the perfect opportunity when Jisung found himself alone with the man, who moved on to tidy up the tables and left over drinks.
“Excuse me, sir. May I speak with you just for a moment?” Jisung tried. Mark wasn’t spooked by him, not even turning around to face him. “Sorry, son, I have a packed schedule.- "
“All right, I understand, sir, but it's just, I need your guidance.” Jisung nervously laughed, pointing to the covered sky. “I need Christ's guidance.” Mark, who had clearly been eager to leave, stopped in place and he turned to face Jisung.
“Just hold on... one second.” Jisung lifts a finger and pats around his damp adidas track pants. “Let me just show you something.” He ran into his first dilemma then. The burner phone was drenched, the holy water dribbling out from every port in the drowned device. If Mark wasn't disinterested enough then he sure was now. Jisung looks up from it, giving up on smacking the water out from it. He met Mark's impatient gaze and wallowed in the regret and shame of what he's about to say, speaking in a way he'd never spoken to Sion.
“You fucked me.” Jisung stuttered out.
Mark's expression never changed, still smiling in Jisung's face like a malfunction. “What?”
“Yeah.” Jisung said with more confidence and looked away to think. “At a private supe club.” He says returning his gaze to Mark, who begins backing away from him in guilty denial. “Nope, not me.”
“You know the one, Secret Lair?…” Jisung said. He took a step closer. “Three of us, oiled up?”
Mark's feet never stopped, backing away towards the tent cloth, still shaking his head no. Jisung licked his quivering lip and pressed on further.
“Mark, you wrapped your stretchy arm around me and it was so fucking hot.” Jisung exhaled loudly. “Your dick was so perfect and long, and so, “ a gasp. “stretchy. And, y- you played my butt like jazz, with poize, and skill, and-” Jisung furrowed his brows for a second and gulped. “...Willingness to improvise.”
Way to go, Jisung thought. Mark's head no longer bounced on autopilot while he awaited the end of whatever that was, and when it was all over, he spoke.
Okay? That was all? Jisung considered adding onto the horny act, throwing in a small moan might help as well, when he chokes. A stretchy appendage shot towards him. Mark’s hand was locked painfully around Jisung’s throat in a matter of seconds.
“oH!” Jisung blinked rapidly, reaching up to scratch at it. His legs begin to drag across the tough dirt and grass, the elastic skin behind to decrease the closer he's pulled towards the man. Jisung gasped once he's face to face with Mark. This is where he dies, by the hands of a man convinced that Jisung so desperately needed his asshole touched he got baptized for it.
“You come in here.” Mark growls “You try to talk to me? Like this? You are a filthy, filthy liar. You are unclean!”
“I have a video.” Jisung spat. Mark’s breath ghosted over his face. It was clear what Jisung had said managed to spook him enough but his grip was still around his throat and Jisung wanted out. “I have a video of the three of us... sucking and fucking. And if you don't let me go, my friend puts the video online. Like that.” Mark removed himself from the lanky guy and pushed him away. “What do you want? You want money?” Mark asked, opening his arms to question it. “...Are you here for money?”
Jisung shook his head no. “You ship boxes labelled as polio vaccines but they're not really polio vaccines, are they? They're Compound V.” He says making Mark go red in irritation. “Who the hell are you?” He tried when Jisung cut in, “I want to know everything about them. Okay? You tell me where they're going. And you tell me how many boxes you ship.”
“No.” Mark says. “No, they will destroy me.”
“Who's "they"? NeoTech?” Jisung scrunched his nose in disapproval. “Here's how this is gonna go. You're gonna tell me, or that video... trends, number one on Twitter. Tonight.” He makes sure to point to the floor to solidify it. Mark had been frozen where he stood and just as Jisung was about to exit the tent he stopped himself. The video itself flashed across his mind in graphic detail. “And Mark.” He spat. “You're also gonna stop the fucking "pray the gay away" shit.” When Jisung finished, every ounce of shame came back to him like an embarrassing memory. “Anyway, it's your choice!” He shouted anxiously, voice cracking as he ran out the tent.
Johnny ripped his shades from his face over the mysterious get up, the sun was already setting and everyone around was purchasing their final trinkets and snacks while staff ran around preparing for the final speeches of the day. His phone buzzed aggressively forcing him to grab it out his pocket and slot his shades in the missing space.
“Hello?” Johnny grumbled into it. He could hear people on the other end chatting and moving by at a rapid pace. Now he had to determine who this was.
“Hey, so that wasn't a piece of cake.” The voice on the other end whines.
“Jisung, that you?” Johnny glances arounds. “You all right?
“Yeah.” Jisung confirms. “Yeah, it's me, sorry. I had to borrow a phone- “ his voice became muffled as he seemingly turned to thank someone before returning. “Johnny, I got baptised. Yeah. It's a long story… Blackmailing somebody is not cake, okay?”
Johnny snorted in response to how embarrassed Jisung sounded.
“It is weird, it's scary, you wind up just saying shit -” Jisung rushed out.
“-Okay, but did you get him to talk?” Johnny questions. “What'd he say?”
“Yeah, yeah. I mean, you know that charity of his? Samaritan's Embrace?
Johnny nods at no one. “Right.”
“All right.” Jisung started. “So what they do is they take boxes full of that stuff and they ship it to hospitals all across the country. And apparently the latest one is going to the NICU at Chilla's Hospital. It's... It's Riize street, I think.” He explained.
“You are a natural kid.” Johnny complimented. “You're like the fucking... Rain Man of fucking people over.”
Jisung’s nervous laughter came after the audible grit in his teeth. “Not a compliment, Johnny.”
Lucas never felt so motionless in a cemetery before. He was never afraid of ghosts, hell those cunts were something made up to scare children out their knickers. But it wasn't the environment, it's what it contained. The ground below him was empty, there was no casket. And staring into the letters of the ugly tombstone long enough can't make a difference. Jaemin’s name was set in stone.
Lucas’s grip tightened around the wooden handle of the mallet hanging by his side and he brought it up. He wanted to yell into the sky as he swung it into the stone but he was quiet until he couldn’t contain it anymore, lashing out and kicking at the remaining stones that crumbled off it.
“Hey!” The shout flowed towards him like the breeze. The guard was already stomping towards Lucas, who scoffed, trying to catch his breath. “Cool your jets, guv.” Lucas shouts to him. “It's not a hate crime.”
The worker stopped, presumably because of the massive mallet and waited for Lucas to just go. So he did. His phone began vibrating in his pocket. Lucas stared at the screen, chest heaving before answering.
“Johnny, all right?” Lucas asked, all rage draining from him.
“NICU at Chillas hospital, Riize street.” Johnny said fast. “Thank Jisung.”
“Haha! fucking brilliant.” Lucas revelled. “I'll meet you at the hospital in half an hour.”
“Let's hear it for Jesus.” Jaehyun awaited the applause that came after and pumped his fist into the air. “Yes!” He says to the excited fans. “One more for the guy upstairs!”
They screamed some more. Jaehyun paced around the stage in satisfaction.
“Oh, I love you guys.” He began. “Let me tell you something. I am so thrilled to be here. Truthfully. Are you?”
“Yeah?” Jaehyun sighs. “Well, a terrible tragedy befell our nation this week… Terrible. And let's not mince words about this. We... were... attacked. SM was attacked.” He stops pacing in search of a camera. Any camera. Jungwoo was watching.
“Some people…” Jaehyun grinned into the lens. “They want me to come out here and speak empty platitudes to you all.” He pressed his lips into a flat grin and returned his focus to the crowd and created a duckbill with his hands. “A little bit of corporate talk.” He mocked and shook his head. “But I don't want to do that. I can't do that.” Jaehyun professed. “You want to know why?
“Why?” The crowd questioned.
“Because I believe that what God wants me to do is get on over there, find the filthy bastards that masterminded this, whatever cave they're in, and introduce them to a little thing called God's judgement!” Jaehyun cried. “That's what I think! Sounds like the right thing to do. But no. No, no, no. Apparently, I have to wait for Congress to say it's okay!?” The hero laughed to the sound of their angered cheers.
“Right?” Jaehyun continued. “I say I answer to a higher law. Wasn't I chosen to save you? Is it not my God-given purpose to protect the sworn planet we call earth!?”
“IMPERIUM! IMPERIUM! IMPERIUM!-”
It only got louder and Jaehyun’s disturbed and wild grin could only get wider. “PALSM 58: 10!” Jaehyun cried out. “THE RIGHTEOUS SHALL REJOICE WHEN HE SEES THE VENGAENCE AND HE WILL BATHE HIS FEET IN THE BLOOD OF THE WICKED!” And deep within that camera lens, Jaehyun could see it. Almost taste the reaction he gauged out of him.
Jungwoo couldn’t take it anymore. He squeezed the remote and fought the urge to throw it, gritting his teeth hard enough to crack a tooth at the screen. “Jaehyun, you motherfucker!”
Ten struggled his way towards the elevator, not even bothering to acknowledge the front desk lady giving him a strange look all to remind him he wasn’t a regular person. He was a member of The Seven. Such a glorious title that gave him the urge to cry, ridiculous media coverage and the funds for the alcoholics wet dream. Ten had already downed his third bottle of vodka before he came stumbling into this building. At least his superabled body was useful for something.
The two metal doors separated and revealed the empty hallway that he stepped out into. He scanned every door he passed, every number, until eventually he found the one.
His heavy knock echoed through the building's hallway. His final countdown to leave and give the man a presumption of a poor ding dong ditch attempt. But Ten was a man, a courageous one, someone supposed to be seen as a hero, he had to act like it.
The door pulled open and all he could do was stare at the man before him. His shoulder dipped a bit reminding him to fix his stance in which he did, speaking for once and breaking the silence.
Taeyong’s gaze lingered over every aspect of him for an uncomfortable period. Ten tried to wave, coming off as a sad attempt to slap the air.
Taeyong's confusion deepened. “Ten, what...?” he sputtered, moving aside to let the man inside. “Sorry, what are you...?”
“I was stopping a mugging nearby and I…” Ten hardly tried to finish his lie, appearing more like a scolded child than a confident man. “It's good to see you.” Ten says. “Can I come in?”
“Okay.” Taeyong agreed. Ten hurried inside hit with the earthy smell from every potted plant in sight. The second thing he noticed was the clutter, the piled up laundry, dishes in the sink. Everything he knew Taeyong hated. In the corner by the dried out fishtank was an empty cage. One Ten remembered purchasing years ago.
Taeyong glanced back, previously dissociating in the middle of the living room. “He died two years ago.” He says slowly turning to face him. “Look, I'm kind of busy, so, maybe give me a call, call first, next time?”
“Taeyong, you don't have to be like this.”
Taeyong’s face flashed in offence. “Well, you show up out of nowhere asking about the goddamn cat, so…” he said with open arms, hand moving up to brush back his white and greasy hair. Ten doesn’t know what to do when Taeyong’s gaze narrowed. “You've been drinking.” Taeyong accuses.
“No.” Ten denied, turning away. Taeyong shot an angry finger. “You're not going to meetings anymore.”
Ten rolled his eyes. “Listen…” He starts. “Water under the bridge. I miss you, Taeyong.”
“You don't get to say that to me.” The older man said, staring pointedly behind Ten. “Leave, please.”
Ten turned to find the door. Taeyong wanted him out, that was it. He could run, never return. A desperate noise left his throat as he defiantly chooses to step closer. “Taeyong, I haven't seen you in years. I mean... wouldn't it be nice...?”
Taeyong groaned. “I see you every day.” He spat. “Every time I walk the streets or turn on the fucking TV! Ten, I'm out of your life.” He shouted out, sounding like he’d been fighting back tears. “You never left mine.”
“I'm sorry, okay?” Cried Ten, “I'm really sorry.”
Taeyong’s distraught expression fell. “I didn't mean... I don't want your apology, okay?” He says. “I want you to get out. Okay? I want you to go back to your ivory penthouse where you can drink and fuck whoever you want…” He gulped, suddenly avoiding Ten’s gaze… “Go back to Jaehyun.”
“I can't go back!” Ten struggled to say, holding back his tears. Taeyong slowly approached him. “....Ten?”
Ten pressed himself against the nearest wall and lolled his head back against the long mirror with a soft thud. “It's too hard.” he croaked. His ex lover, Taeyong. The man he loved more than Jaehyun. He looked down on him with disgust and Ten let him.
But Taeyong never actually felt anything remotely close to disgust, more concerned for the man and his wellbeing.
“What happened?” Taeyong asked.
The explanation was enough to make the man grumble. “Tell me what happened.” Taeyong repeats.
“I keep thinking about all… All those people!” Ten sobbed.
“It's okay. You'll figure it out.” Taeyong fell to his knees and embraced the sulking man in his arms. “Okay? You'll figure it out. You always know what to do, okay?”
“I don't know… They don’t!” Ten’s voice became muffled in the older’s shirt. Taeyong pulls him off. He held Ten’s face in his hands now, getting a better look at the man. He was drunk out of mind, so drunk he could barely keep his balance. “Ten, just tell me what happened… Tell me what happened- “
Ten’s warm lips sealed around Taeyong’s. They both fall into the rhythm of it, Ten reaching up to grab the other's face, who pulled it off. Taeyong turns his head in refusal to cooperate.
“No, no…” Taeyong says. “This isn’t- “
Ten tried again only managing a short peck before the warmth was gone. “Come on.” he whined. Taeyong only shoved him further off. “You're obviously…” Taeyong paused to tug off the hands reaching for him. “No, I said stop it!” He stood up and paced away from Ten.
Ten shouldn’t be here. He felt like an imposter, like he doesn’t belong and it's the truth. He had no room in Taeyong’s life anymore, no room to bother or love him.
“All right, just… Just talk to me.” Taeyong said, coming to his senses. Ten raised from his spot on the floor. The haze he felt from the alcohol seems to subside for now making him groan. This was embarrassing, coming here was embarrassing! Ten scratched his neck. “Yeah, this... “ He sighed. “This was a mistake.” On his way to the door he avoided Taeyong, who tried for him. “No, just talk to me. Just tell me what…” Ten spun around, swollen face stone cold and angry.
“If you…” Taeyong sputtered before shutting his lips in a tight line. Ten left the apartment.
Seunghan could stare at this man for hours and expect a reaction every time. This time it was disinterest. Seunghan was overjoyed to not be lunged at this time. There's more meat and greens cooking on the burner in the kitchen. The sizzling was just background noise now. He wanted to find something the man would fancy other than total death and carnage. Maybe he wanted to eat Seunghan. The thought of that was somehow funny making him laugh out loud until said man was staring at him in confusion. That is until the phone by the crate buzzed. Both of them check it. Seunghan grabbed it and apologized like it mattered.
“One sec.” He chuckled and stepped out to occupy the hallway. He smiled widely, preparing a happy voice. “Hello!”
“They're coming. They're on to you, babe.”
Seunghan’s face dropped alongside the voice. “Sohee? What?”
“Black Noir was outside my apartment.”
“What location?” Seunghan asked and scurried back into the living room to check the boarded windows. “Which addresses do they have?”
Sohee’s mysterious silence stretched on. Until he spoke.
“If they got to my place, all of them.”
Lucas carefully approached the idiot nurses pulling the privacy curtains out for the dying patients, marinating their injuries and ass cancer to hell. Oh and how could he forget the six foot man trailing behind him.
“So, you want to pay me the professional courtesy and tell me where the hell you disappeared to before?” Johnny asked, already catching up to him.
“I just had to pop down to the shop.” Lucas answered by creeping his hand down the nurse's pocket to snag a key card. A drive by pick pocket. She’s barely deterred by it. Johnny can’t say he was impressed but Lucas felt mighty proud, checking the back and front like a trophy as they rounded the corner to enter another long hall. A few more doors till they reach the nursery.
“I was running a bit low on mind your own fucking business.” Lucas says. Johnny would rather keep his sanity but the universe always had other plans for him. This one in the form of his phone buzzing from another stress call. The number couldn’t have been Jisung’s, the poor kid was left without a phone, so that only left one person. Johnny ultimately decided to hand the phone over.
Lucas grumbled into the microphone. “This better be good.”
“What? fucking hell, Seunghan.” Lucas gawked and looked over to try and get Johnny’s attention. “How?”
“I don't know.” Seunghan replied.
“What about the rest of us?” Lucas worried. Seunghan’s amusement could be heard on the other end.
“Your concern for me is very sweet.” He raved but continued. “Maybe, maybe not. So far, they only seem to be hitting my places. I'm taking off.” Seunghan snuck a glance over towards his bound friend on the ground. “What about the guy?”
“God knows what they'll do to him.” Seunghan said, sounding too worried for Lucas’s liking. “Supe-on-Supe violence ain't our concern, mate.”
“I said fucking leave him!”
Beside him, Johnny awaited for the call cut out from the other line. Seunghan was fucked. “Burnt.” Lucas explained in his hyperfocused state. His pace to find the room only becomes faster. Johnny belligerent did the same.
“They're coming for me, my love.” The Japanese man was standing on the side, eyes following Seunghan back and forth as he stuffed his duffel bag with clothes and packaged snacks. Seunghan tossed his laptop inside and pulled the zipper shut before glancing up to give context. “The Supes.” He says into the scared man’s face. “I've been ordered to leave you here for them to find. “And that shit head Lucas, you know, he knows I'll comply, that's how he sees me. Like this mad bastard, only good for hurting or killing, you know?” Seunghan swipes the sweat from his anxious face. “Like a gun, he takes me, points me in a direction and fires. It's not who I am. It's not who you are, either.” Seunghan flared his arms around frantically like he couldn’t decide where to put them, eventually settling on his hair. “We're the same, you and I. Like eggs. Hard outside, soft inside... Or pineapples, perhaps. Whatever those bastards got planned for you, you don't deserve it, my love.”
The distance between them narrowed greatly. Seunghan was dangerously close to the other man’s dirty complexion, close enough to see the slight height difference. Seunghan carefully removed a thick silver key from his pocket. It shined in the man’s eye. Seunghan reached around him, shaking of course and unlocked it.
The hefty weight of the chain hit the ground before their feet. Seunghan’s throat bobbed and he moved on to the wrist restraints. Reaching down he noticed how hard they’d both been shaking. Seunghan freed him fast, but never backed away. The Japanese man eyed him up and down with no indication he would attack. And in the blink of an eye, Seunghan was left in the dust when he ran out of the apartment.
The meeting room was truly a beauty at night. That’s how Yangyang used to think his first few years working here. Now he’s slacking off for what feels like every day. He didn’t plan to stay long in the tower, but he was alone now, sun down slouching and ruining his posture by the second. The room felt warmer at night, and the largest monitor in the room worked to be the best television when necessary. Yangyang wasn’t exactly listening, scarfing down and sucking the creamy filling of a twinkies and all its chemical glory that will send him to the toilet. Just as he tossed the crumplet up wrapper onto the table. It was a mess that he had no energy to pick up. Yangyang got busy with switching through channels until his face showed up.
“The Deep finds himself in hot water following a hare-brained attempt to free a dolphin from Oceanland.” The news anchor explained carefully while the screen showed the aftermath of the small incident of the other night. Yangyang blushed deep red and his stomach twisted watching the camera circle around and zoom into his pale and guilty face, not even bothering to acknowledge the corpse of his late friend. Just some dolphin to NeoTech. The footage started to loop but at a different angle and Yangyang let out a short sigh before moving on. Jungwoo said he’d handle the lawsuit anyways.
“Hello there, everyone! I am so honoured to be here tonight- “
It was Chenle. Yangyang dragged his final bag of doritos over and tore it open while he watched the speech go on. At some point, Starboy, found the broadcasting camera and stared into it with this disturbed look. Starboy, such a stupid name, Yangyang thought and scoffed, popping another chip in his mouth.
“Just… Just please stop the music. Please stop.” Chenle begged looking off to something out of a view. Yangyang rolled his eyes. Any professional would stick to the script and focus.
Chenle turned his head back towards the unseen crowd. A pissed glare stuck on his face now.
“You want me to just suck it up and do this for you? You have no idea what you're really asking. You have no idea what I've been through.” Chenle licked his lips and looked away like he's avoiding the camera. “Every single word that I say up here, I'm reading from a script.” He admits “I didn't write any of these words. I don't even know if I believe in them. I mean, I believe in God, I love God so much, but… Honestly, it's... It's just how goddamn certain everyone is around here.” Chenle raised his head to go over the crowd in disappointment, “I mean, tickets start at, what? 170 bucks, so that these people can tell you how to get into heaven? How do they know? How does anybody know?” Chenle scoffed. “When the Bible was written, life expectancy was 30 years old. I mean, I'm not so sure you're supposed to take it literally. It also says that it's a sin to eat shrimp. That, if you're gay or if you're Gandhi, you're going to hell? I mean…” A sigh. “And if you have sex before marriage, that's... That's not immoral. That's human.”
Yangyang swiped the crumbs from his fingers against his suit, already reaching for the remote, bored out of his mind. He gave Chenle’s face a final look over until the hero stared into the camera. Like he could see Yangyang.
“What's immoral is the guy who shoved his dick in my face.”
Yangyang stilled in his seat and it felt like every muscle in his body just shut down. “Shit…” He mouthed, not even a whisper. Nothing could come out. Sweat began to build up under his suit and forehead and Yangyang willed himself to get out of the chair and run out of the meeting room.
Chenle doesn’t know why he did it but he couldn’t stop. And he wouldn’t, this felt good. His mother’s stoned face watched him from the side of the stage. Her friends and impressions were so precious to her but he deserved this. Even if he’s fighting back his tears in front of what felt like thousands of confused and disturbed eyes in the crowd.
“Here's the truth.” Chenle frowned. “Anyone who tells you they know the answers is lying. And I know, I know, I'm supposed to be this hero-idol-symbol-whatever, but I don't know what the hell I'm doing.” He reaches for his heart. “I'm just as scared and confused as the rest of you. I'm done pretending, and I'm done taking any more shit. Thank you.” He finished. The silence that followed was loud, so loud until a single small applaud sounds from somewhere in the silence.
Jisung could almost shed a tear, slapping his hands together to his heart's content while Chenle hurried off the stage. He was the only one clapping which gathered a handful of unwanted eyes. The strangers around were turning fast to face him. Jisung doesn’t seem to mind the staring, deciding to push past the crowd to find out where the hero was heading.
Empty rows upon empty rows of incubators. Lucas wasn’t interested in any of it. Johnny was falling behind him but that’s a skill issue. Soon enough, Lucas came across the only occupied incubator. And just above it, a full bag of compound V. You would think the man just struck gold with how his eyes lit up.
“Jackpot.” Lucas said, crouching down to level with it. Johnny caught on and strolled over “Compound V?” Johnny said and leaned in. ”Oh yeah.” he whispered, “and lots of it.”
Lucas grabbed the blue strip leading towards the sleeping baby resting inside the incubator. And the most genuine shock found itself on his face. “Oh my God…” Lucas muttered.
The baby’s little hands twitched beside it. Lucas hoped to get a better look when two bright blue beaming lights spread against the durable plastic, the only thing shielding him. Lucas nearly tumbled into Johnny, who yelped out, “Jesus!”
“That's a fucking baby Supe!” Lucas says, outright flabbergasted and laid his hand over the thing. “Chosen by God, my ass. These cunts are made in a fucking lab.”
“Hey.” Jisung anxiously approached the man he’d been desperately searching around for. He won’t admit it had taken him a full 30 minutes but just seeing Chenle made it worth the sweat. The artificial grass under his shoes crunched and Chenle spun around with a displeased expression, his aggressive stance adding to the scare. Jisung’s hands shot up.
Chenle’s nerves seemed to calm, shoulders deflating, lip quivering. It was sad seeing him like this, so defeated.
“That was a great speech. I mean, come on…” Jisung snickers, praying it would ease the mood. “I mean, know your audience, but that was, like, That was Joel at the Garden. That was…-” Chenle’s forced smile was a little disturbing, enough to make him shut up.
“I am so glad you enjoyed it, Jisung! I'm so glad. How was your quality time with Mark? Any more VIP tickets I can get for you? Because I'm so here for you!”
“Chenle, It's not like that- “
“-You sure, Jisung?” Chenle spat. “Because I can get you a commemorative cup. Or I can get you a Mark figurine, or a goodie bag-”
Only then the hero stopped his vent to stare at Jisung “What?” Chenle said sniffling.
“Happened not too long ago, and I came here looking for a way to get out of the shit that I'm in right now. And that wasn't fair to you, and I'm so sorry.” Jisung tried to stop the quiver as he spoke but ultimately failed. “I really don't think there's anything that can help it anymore or fix it... or make it better.” Jisung reaches forward to grasp the man's shoulders. “And everything I heard here, Chenle? Well, that helped a total of jack shit… Except for what you said.”
The tears on Chenle's cheeks lay damp now, but he'd look like he'd burst out into another round at any minute.
Jisung sighs. “I mean, you're right, there's... Nobody knows. And that's the only fucking thing I've heard all day that's made any sense at all. And that is the God's honest truth, Chenle." The crowd began their cheers in the distance, already having moved on to whatever entertainment was being put on for them. Chenle spoke after an awkward while of staring into Jisung's eyes with his own bloodshot ones. “I'm so sorry.”
“No, no, no.” Jisung lamented. “I'm sorry.”
Chenle pressed his lips in a tight line and pulled him in, wrapping his arms tightly around the lanky guy. Jisung does the same. Both whimpering into each other's shoulders.
“Okay, easy with that.” Johnny had absolutely no clue why the nurses would keep disposable syringes around the children but Lucas got his hands on one and was already working away on getting a good enough sample. “You get some air in there, you could kill the kid.” Johnny pointed out.
Lucas snorted. “Well, wouldn't that be a crying shame?”
“Alright…” Lucas flicked the length of the syringe and topped it off with the cap. He’d gotten more than enough. “Let's bugger off.” He says
“All right.” Johnny’s journey to the door was cut short by the deafening sound of approached footsteps. The door was blown off its hinges in no time. Three heavily armed guards stormed inside and opened fire on the two. Johnny and Lucas dove in opposite directions but met in the middle behind a heft pillar, thick enough to withstand the bullets knocking into it. Lucas turned to Johnny. “Hey, keep them busy.” He ordered out. Johnny revealed a weapon of his own, a tiny g19 from his pocket and fired out at them. Lucas snuck his hand around the pillar and retrieved the open wire, unplugging it from the port. Afterwards, Lucas flaunted it to Johnny. “Watch and learn.” He uses it to roll the incubator around the wall.
The firing came to an inevitable stop. The guard reloads their weapons. Lucas saw this as an opportunity. He appeared from out behind the pillar and held the baby up and out. “Hey.” Lucas smirked. The guards barely had time to react as the lasers tore through their flesh and bone their half crashing to the floor. Within seconds the room was silent.
“Holy fuck.” Lucas laughed. “That was diabolical.” The baby made a small delighted sound. Lucas was extra careful when he kissed its little forehead. “You little fucking beauty.”
Johnny peeked out from behind the pillar, stunned as the baby blinked innocently. Lucas set the little thing back into its incubator, even swaddling the baby with its little blanket.
Lucas smiles down at it. “You done good, lad.”
“Come on, Lucas, it's time to go.” Johnny’s standing by the door now, keeping his boot from the blood and guts seeping from the spilled flesh below him. “Okay.” Lucas said, turning towards the baby one last time. “Now, you keep your nose clean, sunshine, or I'll come back and stomp you.”
The dark and dirty alleyway led Seunghan nowhere, there were eyes on him and he could feel them on him like the Gods watching from above. The aloof Japanese man was nowhere in sight after he ran off. Seunghan searched around the endless dumpsters and fire escapes around. A sound cracked louder than lightning and panged down the alley followed by the buzzing alarm from the white sedan. Above it stood Blacknoir, who hurdled from above a rooftop. Seunghan was right, he was being watched. Sicheng stood still in his sleek black suit just to rub it in before hopping off the cars caved in roof and locked his gaze onto the fleeing man. Seunghan’s feet could only take him so far and just as he’s about to give up, Blacknoir is gone. In his place stood the Japanese man, his friend, and by far the only person offering him grace. From the looks of it he’d delivered a brutal shove sending the hero flying sideways into a nearby dumpster. Sicheng groaned in front of the caved in metal. But he stood up, unshaken by it. By then the silent exchange between Seunghan and his friend happened.
The Japanese man jutted his chin. I got this. His face said it all.
So he ran, and he ran, until eventually, Seunghan stopped. Just outside the alley, the neon signs of open shops were on and lining down the sidewalk. He could leave, that would be the smartest option. But he doesn’t. His feet moved on their own and Seunghan trailed back into the alleyway to cower behind a fixed dumpster until the commotion further away died down. When he thought it was over, he could almost make out Sicheng's heavy boots rushing by the dumpster and out of the alley in search of him. Unscathed and fully energized. Seunghan slid out from behind the smelly dumpster. He had an idea of what to expect but nothing would ever compare to seeing him sprawled out on the ground, a huge chunk of his abdomen missing, it was comically horrifying, body stuck at an unnatural angle making him resemble a human pasta spring.
“No, no, no.” A burn weld in the corner of Seunghan’s eyes. He hasn’t cried in a long time but he just might. The gore of his friend’s intestines preparing to leak out onto the pavement was too much to look at. He stripped his jacket off and chucked Sicheng's abandoned dagger away. The cold air of the night brushed his arms and neck sending a slight shiver down his back. He laid it out over the man’s form like a warm blanket, he moved it higher preparing to cover his face.
“Hnng…” The tiniest moan came out but not from Seunghan. He paused before pulling back the jacket. Wide and shocked eyes stare up at him on the grimy face he’d grown accustomed to. His hands fall flat against the man’s dirty pajama top. He had to get him new clothes, somehow.
Seunghan managed to speak, a little out of breath. “A miracle!” His hands trailed further down to enclose a dirty hand into the warmth of his own calloused palms. Seunghan found himself smiling warmly at the super abled man in his arms, the ugly open gash closing right before his eyes. “You are a miracle...”
