Imagine mafia wooyoung, got beaten up during a police raid or an attack by a rival gang and when you finally get him back to you he’s like this - a little cut up, lip still bleeding in places when he talks, a yellow bruise forming on the curve of his jaw
And you touch him, so careful, so fragile as you scold him for things ending up this way. Your heart is beating out of your chest and you’re once again stuck with this terrifying reality that one day you could lose him. That these injuries were superficial but one wrong hit, one lucky shot, one guy with a weapon trying his luck and you’d never see him again.
But he’s looking at you with a wild grin, even through the blood staining his teeth, even though it hurts to move his face. Because the adrenaline is still pumping through him, his knuckles are bruised in the best way and his girl is in front of him, looking like an absolute angel
"don't worry baby," he promises, "you can't get rid of me that easily."
Summary: When you originally auditioned for KQ, you got rejected, and went back to Australia and your older brother to lick your wounds. For a couple of years you tried to forget your dream and be happy with the humble life you built, but there was always something in you that longed for the stage and the lights. One day you got the call, and left to live your dream. But maybe this dream shouldn't have been chased?
Warning/content labels: 9th member, bullying, sexual harassment, alienation, xenophobia, suicide, regression trope, time travel, mentions of alcoholism, restrictive eating, extreme guilt and second chances, and grave formatting issues that I blame on Tumblr.
A/N: As always, let me know if you want to be tagged in rest of this, either by comment or ask. Enjoy!
Before You Go Masterlist
Chapter 6 Chapter 8
You're not alone in the kitchen this morning and you don't know how to feel about it.
You normally like having your mornings to yourself, but you have to admit that not moving around the dorm like a ghost is a nice change of pace.
Even if the person currently preparing breakfast beside you happens to be Wooyoung.
He looks like he hasn't slept well, dark circles under his eyes that match your own, moving like a zombie, but you don't ask him any questions.
He hasn't been mean to you since he came back from Tokyo and you've quite enjoyed it so in an attempt to stay on whatever good side it's possible for you to stay on, you keep quiet and out of his way as much as possible.
He's not making it easy, though. He's used to taking up space in the kitchen and even half-asleep that habit persists, so you do your best to stick to filling up the kettle and preparing your tea.
You sigh when you realize you're about to run out of tea bags. Doing the calculations in your head you’re trying to see if you can afford to buy another box today or if you're going to have to wait until your quarterly payments come in, when San comes stumbling into the kitchen.
He looks about as well-rested as Wooyoung, and you're a little surprised that he’s able to keep himself upright and walking around, even if he does resemble a baby deer.
"Why did you leave, Young-ah?" He pouts, finding his way over to his soulmate to attach himself to his back, and as always, you feel like you're intruding just from being around them.
"Couldn't sleep." Wooyoung says, gently touching his head to San's before he goes back to breakfast. "Didn't want to wake you."
"Such a meanie." San huffs, looking over at you when he seems to realize you're in the room with them. "Right, Chan-ah? Isn't he a meanie?"
You stare at him like he's lost his mind. You know he doesn't really care about you, but why would he throw you to the wolf just like that?
"You don't have to answer that, Chan-ah." Yunho's voice carries from the hallway as he joins you, sporting a bedhead that any bird would be excited to call their nest. "There is no good answer."
"I can be nice." Wooyoung huffs, but he doesn't look at you when he says this, and you get it.
He can be nice. To people he cares about.
You're just not one of them.
"You got a new mug?" Yunho asks, staring at the green and white thermos mug sitting on the counter, waiting to be filled. "I said I was going to buy you a new one."
"It's part of my birthday merch drop," You mumble, afraid of making too much noise as you fidget with the tea bag. "They gave me the tester, so I replaced the old one."
"Birthday drop?" San's eyes find you before they drop to the mug where Yangchan is doing a variety of cute yoga poses in athletic wear and a headband in lieu of her usual bow.
"Yeah, they drop tomorrow." You shrug as if announcing that your birthday is tomorrow is no big deal. "Should be fun."
"Right." San says, looking between you and the guys as he's trying to figure out what to say. "Your birthday. Fun."
"I think what San's trying to ask is if you have any plans for your birthday." Yunho helpfully supplies to which San nods, and even Wooyoung is looking at you like he's waiting to hear your answer.
"Call my brother mostly." You say, feeling your phone vibrate in your pocket and it’s with an apology that you get it out to read the message from your manager.
"No other plans?" Yunho continues, sharing a look with Wooyoung.
"Not really." You mumble, the color draining from your face as you read the message a second time.
"Everything okay?" San asks, head lifting from where it's been resting against Wooyoung's shoulder.
"I have a meeting." You mumble as you check the time to see how long you have before your manager picks you up.
"Well, don’t sound too excited about it." Wooyoung tries for a joke, his words definitely not the best chosen ones as they all notice you stiffen and watch you school your features into the usual mask of empty pleasantness.
"My bad. Enjoy your breakfast."
And like that you leave the kitchen, heading to get yourself ready for what might just be the scariest meeting of your career.
"Nice going, dude." San sighs, detaching himself from Wooyoung to go grab himself a glass of water.
"It's not my fault she misinterprets everything I say."
"Wooyoung." Yunho's voice is cold and it makes both men shiver. "It very much is your fault, don't blame that on her."
Wooyoung has the decency to look ashamed, and his ears are turning red from the way both his friends are staring at him.
"I know, alright? I should have just kept my mouth shut."
"Why didn't you?" San continues and for the first time in a long time Yunho can feel tension between the two of them.
"Old habits." Wooyoung shrugs, refusing to meet anyone's eye as he keeps working on breakfast. "Nightmares putting me in a mood."
"You can't take it out on her though." Yunho sighs, seeing the frustration in his friend.
"I know. I wasn't even trying to. Just wanted to be part of the conversation and the wrong thing came out. Honest."
"Think it's the meeting with the boss that hyung talked about?" San asks, wrapping an arm around Wooyoung's waist again in a silent sign of comfort.
"I assume so. It sounded like he wanted to speak with her as soon as possible, so it makes sense." Yunho says, watching as the physical touch relaxes the youngest again.
"So, about her birthday," San says in a lowered voice, looking down the hallway to make sure you're not within earshot. "We're definitely doing something, right?"
"You think she'd want that?" Wooyoung asks, not unkindly but rather skeptical. "She only tolerates like three of us."
"And this is our chance to get into her good graces." San argues with his usual pout. "As long as we don't make it too overwhelming, I think it would work."
"There's a problem though." Yunho says, also looking over his shoulder to make sure you're still in your room getting ready. "We don't know what she likes."
"It can't be that hard to find out." Wooyoung scoffs, looking over at him like it wouldn't even be a challenge. "We've done tons of interviews. She must have mentioned stuff in some of them."
"Are you suggesting we go through social media coverage to find out her likes and dislikes?" Yunho stares at him but the younger just shrugs.
"There are hundreds of fan guides and wikis on us, I'm sure the Yangies have made posts with her favorite things."
It's actually a pretty good point, and Yunho can feel the cogs in his head turning.
"That might actually work. Provided she's told the truth and not just what people want to hear or what the company wants her to say."
"Come on, dude, it was just a suggestion. I can't do all the thinking here." Wooyoung whines which has San laughing.
"Yeah, Yunho-yah, he'll hurt himself."
"I'm guessing you don't want breakfast after all." Wooyoung says, dramatically pushing San off who instantly attaches himself to Yunho instead.
"So mean." He pouts, snuggling into Yunho who's not above hugging him close. "So, we're going on a research binge today?"
"Looks like it." Yunho chuckles, as he brings a hand up to pet San's hair. "Think we'll be able to rope the others into it?"
"Rope who into what?" Jongho asks, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes as he walks into the kitchen, his hair all askew.
"We're going to try to figure out what Chan-ah-" San looks over his shoulder again to make sure you're still in your room before he continues in a hushed tone. "What Chan-ah likes so we can surprise her for her birthday tomorrow."
"You want to join?" Yunho asks and even Wooyoung looks over at the former maknae in spite of his own bad mood.
"Sure. Shouldn't be too difficult." Jongho says with a nod. "What's for breakfast?"
If you had eaten breakfast, you would have thrown up in the backseat of the car as it rolls out of the parking lot.
Your manager, Mr Lee Minseok, had greeted you like he always did with a sweet smile before taking your gym bag so you didn't have to carry it yourself, before he'd led you out to the car.
He's making small talk with you as he drives, doing his best to put you at ease even though he most likely has no idea what the meeting you're about to walk into is about.
He knows you're nervous though, and that's all he cares about, even putting on your favorite playlist to help you breathe a little easier.
He's such a good man that you sometimes feel bad for the shit he has to go through because of you, and you usually do your best to make things easier for him if you're able. But today you're not in the right headspace to be accommodating.
You know Hongjoong said he'd be at the meeting, but for all you know, it might just end with you having to leave the company all together with his blessing.
In a way it might be for the best, but you would prefer to leave on your own terms and not kicked out for causing too many problems.
Not to mention the debt.
"There's still time to pick up something to eat." Minseok says, looking back at you through the rear-view mirror. "Would you like to make a stop?"
"No."
You know you're being rude and taking your nerves out on the poor man, but everyone needs to seriously stop telling you to eat.
You can see his face fall in the mirror and the guilt makes you even more nauseous.
"I'm sorry, Minseok." You sigh, using the name he asked you to call him when he met you at Incheon International for the first time. "I know you're just looking out for me."
"It's alright," Your protector and the closest thing you have to a friend says, giving you a far too understanding smile back. "I shouldn't have pushed."
You want to tell him it's okay, that you're just overreacting and being a bitch for no reason, but the fear of what's waiting for you at the company makes you unable to focus on anything else.
For all you know, this could be the last time you're allowed to enter KQ, and it's scaring the fuck out of you.
"Director Kim is expecting you, go right on in." The secretary smiles at you from behind her desk and it's taking everything in you not to run straight out the door.
You've only met the man a couple of times, but he's been nothing but kind to you when you have, and you know the guys all love him.
And yet, despite this, you always feel like you're going to be sick whenever you see him. You don't know if it's because he's the CEO of the company, you worry that the others will think you're sucking up to him, or because you're terrified of accidentally being disrespectful towards him and offending the man.
You may have grown up with the language, but the heavy emphasis on hierarchy and customs surrounding respect was something you'd had to learn when you arrived in the country.
You make sure your phone is on do not disturb and take a deep breath before you knock on the door, only entering once you hear the order to come in.
Hongjoong is already inside waiting, and Mr Kim stands up to greet you, giving you a polite yet gentle smile that you feel wholly undeserving of when he gestures for you to take a seat after you've given him a proper bow.
You’re at one end of the table with Hongjoong is seated to your left, the director right across from you at the other end, but the way your captain has pushed his chair back a bit makes it clear that he's not the focus of the meeting.
He gives you a nod that you suppose could be seen as encouraging, and you're so desperate for support that you choose to take it as such.
"Thank you for coming on such short notice, Chan-ssi." The director says, his hands folded in front of him on the table as he speaks. "Hongjoong has brought some things to my attention that I felt couldn’t wait, I believe you're aware of what these things are?"
"Yes, sir." You say, forcing yourself to keep your voice steady and your eyes on him. "We talked about it yesterday."
"That's good, but you don't have to call me sir. We're a bit more informal here usually."
"I understand," You say, clenching your hands so hard underneath the table you're afraid you're going to break something. "It just makes me feel comfortable, but I can stop if you'd prefer."
"No, no, that won't be necessary." Mr Kim laughs, easing the mood of the office a little. "As long as you're comfortable that's all that matters."
What a novel opinion.
"Thank you, sir." You say, trying not to mumble but only partially succeeding.
"Right. So, from what I understand there has been some concern about you being put on a diet, is that correct?"
You can't help but glance Hongjoong's way, feeling the need to make sure you're not saying something he doesn't approve of, but he doesn't give you anything, so you're forced to answer on your own.
"Yes, sir."
"Can you tell me little bit about it? Who first approached you about it?"
You had known the question was going to come, but you don't know what Hongjoong has already said and it’s stressing you out.
"I…" You can almost feel her presence in the room, and you look towards the door, as if she's waiting on the other side of it, ready to barge in as soon as you mention her name.
"It's alright." Mr Kim says, his calm steady eyes watching you as you turn back to face him. "Miss Choi has strict orders to not let anyone past her desk as long as this meeting is in session."
You look to your captain again and this time he does look back. He softly nods for you to go on, and as frightened as you are to get the ball rolling, you find yourself opening your mouth.
"Head manager Yi. Sir."
The words are quiet but they're there and you can't take them back.
"Do you remember when she first approached you about it?" The director asks as if the name doesn't surprise him but if it's because Hongjoong has already told him, or he just has a very good poker face is impossible for you to know.
"About a week after I got here." You mumble, the memory bitter as it plays in your mind. "She said she had some advice for me if I wanted to succeed and then told me that if I wanted to become a proper idol I needed to 'lose the flab'. She gave me some tips and a box of tea she said would help me. I thought it was a bit weird and rude, but I knew it was a tough industry, and I wasn't exactly model thin, so I listened to her. And it's just gotten more extreme since then."
It’s hard for you to remember those days, back when you were so excited to get to live your dream only to be immediately thrown into the deep end and told to learn to swim or drown.
"I see." Mr Kim says, and you can't tell what he feels about the situation. "Do you feel comfortable telling me what you normally eat in a day right now?"
Your heart is hammering away in your chest, the shame so ingrained in you by now that you just want to run away but that's no longer an option.
The die has been cast, and all you can do now is see it through to the end, no matter the cost.
"A protein shake and a cup of the tea for breakfast, an apple for lunch, and a sweet potato for dinner."
"That's it?" Hongjoong asks and you watch the director's eyes flit to him before they settle back on you.
"Sometimes an iced coffee if someone's making a run. But other than that, yes." You say as your face burns and your hands hurt from how tight you're clutching them.
"Is the food the only thing you've been told to change?" The director continues, and you know what he's referring to without needing to ask for clarification.
"Two workouts every day in addition to dance practice. She always seemed to know if I skip a day, so I've tried to be good about it."
You know the wording isn't the best, but it is the way you think so why not just say it?
"How long has it been that extreme? Both the food and exercise, do you know?"
"A couple of weeks maybe." You shrug, your memory has been pretty hazy for a while which you suppose isn't really surprising considering everything. "She was really upset when we came back from tour, and I hadn't lost enough weight, so she doubled down. I tried telling her that I hadn't been able to stick to the diet because it affected my performance too much, but she wouldn't hear it."
"I see." Mr Kim says with a sigh and your eyes burn, unable to stop feeling like you've been unable to live up to what he hired you for. "Has it been only head manager Yi doing this or have there been others?"
Again, you hesitate.
You have no love for the people who have made your time at the company hell, but you assume they've just been doing what they're told, and you don't want to be the one to get them in trouble. On the other hand…
"Some members of staff have been enforcing it." You mumble, unclutching your hands to pick at your nails as the anxiety settles fully in your chest. "Some of them scolded me personally, others just relayed the information to her. There were team dinners that I was told to not attend, and if I did, I was watched the entire time to make sure I didn't overindulge."
"Has it always been this extreme?" Mr Kim asks, watching you closely in a way that has you sweating bullets.
"No. Like I said, it got worse after the last tour, but the pressure has always been there."
"What would happen if you didn’t stick to the diet and exercise plan?"
You don't want to answer this one, and you're so close to walking out of the room, but you know there’s no point now. You might as well just get it all out once you’ve started.
You find your eyes drifting back to Hongjoong who's already looking at you, and as much as you've hated how he's treated you, you don't want him to have to hear this.
"Hongjoong could leave the room if it would make you feel more comfortable." Mr Kim offers, and Hongjoong seems like he's ready to walk out at your answer but the idea of him leaving is far more terrifying than having him with you.
"He can stay." You say, turning your eyes back to the director. "It was… Mostly verbal punishments. Yelling and belittling, that type of thing. Sometimes I'd get assigned first makeup chair for weeks, less food or more workouts for a period until I guess she thought the lesson had stuck."
"I understand that this might be hard to recount," Mr Kim says and you can see Hongjoong bracing himself in your peripheral. "But has it ever been physical?"
"Not as often." You whisper as you're unable to meet the man's eyes any longer, the memory of fingers digging into your hair and long nails scratching your scalp still fresh in your memory. "And it was mostly just smacks or hair pulling. I know other idols have it worse, so I guess I lucked out with just that."
The energy in the room has shifted when you finish speaking, and at first, you think it's coming from the director but when you look at him it doesn't make sense.
Then you turn your eyes to your captain.
The look of him is something you’ve never seen before, and you know you would remember if you had. His face is still in an almost unnatural way with an intensity in his eyes that rivals the demon he lets out on stage to play.
He looks more than angry. He's furious and there's a big part of you that can't make sense of it.
He hates you, has made no secret of it since the beginning, and yes, while someone putting their hands on you isn't ideal, you can't make sense of why he'd react this way over it.
Maybe he just draws the line at physical torment and prefers his punishments to be verbal.
"Chan-ssi." Mr Kim's voice pulls your attention away from Hongjoong and back to him, and you watch stunned as he stands up from his seat to bow to you. "On behalf of the company, I am so sorry that this has been happening. Everything that you've described is completely unacceptable and I'm horrified that no one was able to recognize or come forward about these issues until now."
You don't know what to say. All that's left is to just stare at the director that has his head lowered to you as if you’re even remotely deserving of it.
"Sir, I'm - It's fine, please stop."
You throw a panicked glance at Hongjoong but he doesn't look like he's about to call a stop to the humiliation any time soon. If anything, he looks ready to get up and bow down himself.
"We are going to take immediate steps to correct this, I give you my word." The director says, finally straightening up to lock eyes with you. "And should there be any sort of pushback or reprisals towards you, I would like you to come straight to me, or Hongjoong if that makes you feel more comfortable. This is not how I run my company."
You're fighting tooth and nail to stop yourself from giving a lame thumbs up, having no idea what to say.
Sure, he's the boss but he can't know everything that goes on at the company, right? If you'd only tried a little bit harder, and if the guys hadn't started paying attention all of sudden, none of this would be happening.
"Yes, sir." You manage to say even though his words feel less real than they actually appear to be.
Why does he care?
"Hongjoong also mentioned something about requesting proper footwear during practice and performances." Mr Kim says, finally sitting back down which helps you breathe a bit easier. "So, we're going to look into that as well."
"Right. Thank you." You mumble, the ache in your feet one of the things you're excited about getting rid of, and you wonder if maybe you could be so bold… "Is it- Would it be alright if I have a request about that? Or something similar, at least?"
"Of course." The director says, the gentle smile back on his face like he's glad to hear you speaking up for yourself, and you see Hongjoong perk up in your peripheral.
"Would it be possible to maybe… Lose the miniskirts for performances? It's just that a lot of the dancing requires big movements and the skirts aren't very," You search for a word that won't make you seem like a brat throwing a tantrum. "Easy to make work with the choreography."
"Of course, we will let the stylists know to change the concepts going forward."
"I mean, I don't want to make anyone's job harder, but when I have to focus on not showing-" Everything. "It makes it harder to keep up with everyone."
"I understand." The director nods, taking it more seriously than you'd thought he would. "We'll be sure to relay that and make sure that's take into account going forward."
"Thank you." You breathe, some of the tension leaving you when your body realizes you didn't have to fight to be more covered up. "I really appreciate that."
"Of course." Mr Kim says almost fatherly, and you're really starting to see why the boys like him so much. "Now, to look at a plan going forward."
Of course, things aren't as easily solved as just saying pretty words and it's all done.
"First thing I'd like to see is a thorough doctor's visit to determine where we're at in terms of your health." He directs at you before he turns to Hongjoong. "And I'm thinking a break is in order until we can get everything sorted out, don’t you agree?"
"Yes, I think that would be for the best." Your captain nods and his words have your blood freezing in your veins.
"I'm thinking at least for a month and then we'll evaluate after that-"
"Hang on a minute, I didn't agree to a break." You interrupt quite rudely, staring at the two men like they've lost their minds. "We have a comeback coming up, a music video to shoot, promos to get done, I'm not stepping away from that."
"Those can be pushed back if needs be." Mr Kim says, the way he looks at you far too similar to pity to sit well with you. "Your health needs to take priority."
"I will agree to the doctor's visit, hell I'll even go to therapy if you need me too, but I will not be the reason this comeback gets delayed. I'm already hated enough as it is."
"Your health is important, Chan-ah." Hongjoong tries, his dark eyes nearly pleading with you to be reasonable.
"Work is important." You stare back at him, feeling like you're the only sane one in the room. "I can rest after the comeback."
"Chan-ssi." Mr Kim sighs, looking at you like you remember your dad used to do when you disagreed with him about something that wasn't up for discussion. "I understand that halting work would be distressing, but you're about to run straight into a brick wall if you keep going like this."
"What if I promise to take it easy? I'll do everything the doctor says to do, but please don't make me responsible for ruining everyone's hard work. Please." You're close to tears when you finish, not above begging on your knees if this plea doesn't work. But the way the director slumps back in his seat, watching you carefully, has you staying in your chair for now.
"What if the doctor tells you that you need to go on hiatus? Would you still listen then?"
"No hiatus." You say firmly, as if you have any negotiation power here and the two men aren't just indulging your tantrum. "I'll limit the exercising, eat better, sleep longer and go to therapy. But I need to work to function. Please don't take that away from me."
Mr Kim looks to Hongjoong, like he's silently asking his opinion, and you look between them with your heart lodged in your throat, praying with everything you have that they'll listen.
"We could keep it to just the most important schedules." Hongjoong says carefully, not fully saying he agrees with you but doing his best to find a middle ground. "Get through the comeback and after that we plan for a calmer period or more solo schedules for those who want them to give you the time to recover properly?"
"Workaholics the lot of you." Mr Kim sighs but there's a hint of a smile on his lips that has the hope spark in your chest. "If that's what you think is best and the doctor signs off on it, I'm going to trust your judgment."
Your head spins as the weight is lifted off your chest, and you hurriedly wipe the tears from your face before you can make a bigger fool of yourself.
"Thank you, sir." You bow in your seat, nose nearly touching the table. "Thank you so much."
"Again, only with the doctor's approval." The director cautions but you're confident you can convince them too if needs be.
"Yes, sir. Truly, thank you."
"We'll book an appointment for you as soon as possible, and you'll stop all additional workouts immediately until you're medically cleared." The director continues, his voice serious in a way you haven't heard yet and you instantly find yourself hanging onto every word. "You'll take it easy on the food and the dancing until the doctor tells you otherwise. No more extreme restriction, and I trust you boys to keep an eye on it as well. Understand?"
He looks at Hongjoong who immediately nods, and while you normally would be annoyed about being monitored, you realize it's no different from what they're basically already doing, so you say nothing about it.
"Are there any other concerns I need to be aware of?" Mr Kim asks, looking between the two of you, and you figure you might as well since he’s asking.
"Um, it's not anything time sensitive but I would like to maybe have a meeting with you to discuss the debt and if it would be possible to lower the amount I pay off for a while."
You don't think you've said anything strange, but both the director and Hongjoong freeze in their seats, their eyes coming to focus solely on you.
"What debt would that be?" Mr Kim asks and suddenly his focus feels overwhelming.
"… My debt? I know I have to pay it off and I fully intend to do so, but some unexpected expenses have popped up and I just need-"
"Chan-ah, Chan-ah," Hongjoong interrupts you, looking both confused and worried. "What debt are you talking about?"
"The debt. The one from covering all the expenses when I started at the company." You stress, unable to believe you have to spell it out for them. "All idols have it, right?"
"All trainees have it." Hongjoong clarifies, staring at you like he can't believe what he's hearing. "You weren't a trainee when you started."
It's like the air has been sucked out of the room, dread settling heavily in your stomach as your mind works overtime trying to put everything together.
"How much have you been getting paid since you came to us, Chan-ssi?" Mr Kim asks, something dark in his voice that has the hairs at the back of your neck standing up.
"Um- Enough to cover most of my food expenses." You say, hands clenched in your lap again. "It's been a little tight lately though which was why I wanted to speak to you about it."
"You haven't actually been paid?" Mr Kim continues, eyes darkening when you more or less nod. "Who informed you about this debt of yours?"
"Head manager Yi." You mumble, eyes flitting between the director and Hongjoong as the anxiety keeps bubbling up inside you. "And then when I talked to one of your lawyers, he informed me just how big the debt was."
"Why did you speak to a lawyer?" Hongjoong asks, drawing the director's eyes to him but the older man doesn't say anything, so you guess he wants to know too.
"I um…" You swallow the tears and the panic, clutching your hands so hard your nails break the skin, the sting oddly soothing. "I was- I wanted to know if it was possible to break my contract and what the repercussions would be if I did."
Your captain's stare could bore through stone, and you're too afraid to look at him now that he knows you had wanted to abandon the group.
"And what were you told?" The director asks.
"That leaving before the contract was up would put my family in generational debt and we'd be buried in litigation." You whisper, unable to meet anyone's eye as you let the pain in your hands ground you.
"Do you remember which lawyer told you this?" He sounds angry now and it's taking everything you have left in you not to cry at the sound.
"Head manager Yi said that his name was Mr Shin."
"Was she the one who told you to speak to him?"
"Yes, sir. I didn't want anyone else to know I was thinking of leaving, so I never talked to anyone else about it."
"I understand." Mr Kim says gravely and you can't help but feel like you shouldn't have said anything at all. "This is something we need to look into further, but this is a serious issue and I'm glad you brought it to my attention. You should absolutely be getting paid for the work that you do, and anything else is not only unethical but criminal."
He glances at Hongjoong before he turns his eyes back to you.
"I'm so sorry that this has happened to you and rest assured I will be getting to the bottom of this. You have my word. Until then, however, I need the two of you to not discuss this with anyone, not even the rest of the group. It might seem harsh, but it needs to be done, do we understand each other?"
"Yes." Both you and Hongjoong say, glancing at each other knowing that this little crisis meeting has just gotten a whole lot bigger than either of you could have imagined.
"Good." Mr Kim says as he stands up, about the end the meeting, and both you and Hongjoong follow his lead. "We'll make sure to get you that doctor's appointment as soon as possible, any activity that clashes with it will not be considered a priority."
"Yes, sir." You say before you and your captain say goodbye and head out of the meeting with even more thoughts than you'd had going into it.
there will never be anything as funny as the mutual disbelief between long form and short form fic writers about each other's style.
short form writers look at people writing 100k+ fics as though this is some sort of talent given as part of a fae bargain, that the commitment required shows some sort of ungodly mental fortitude.
meanwhile long form writers look at people writing 1000 word one shots like god I would cut off my left nipple to be able to say anything concisely. i would love to play with multiple ideas. free me from the shackles of this child I have birthed. i love them but I now must take them to t-ball and doctor's appointments and they're going to destroy everything I own.
I quite literally abandoned this story 😭. My internet went away and then I started working on other stories before I realized that I still had this to do so here we are. I hope y'all enjoy.
"Willy.......it was willy."
The name hit the room like a physical blow, a sudden drop in atmospheric pressure that made everyone’s ears pop.
The name didn't just represent a person; it represented the untouchable, the golden boy of the Aurora hierarchy. The son of the man who sat at the head of the very table that decided their futures.
t was the ultimate name the one that made the professors look away, the one that made the dean's voice go soft, the one that made the university's "perfection" possible.
Mingi’s jaw tightened so hard the muscle jumped in his cheek. He didn't look shocked; he looked validated. A dark, knowing grimace crossed his face, as if he had been waiting for the world to finally admit the truth he’d seen in the hallways for years.
Wooyoung let out a small, choked sound halfway between a sob and a gasp and had to lean against the wall to keep his knees from buckling. The sheer audacity of it, the sheer wrongness of it, was enough to make him feel physically sick.
But Jongho... Jongho was different.
When the name left Yeosang's lips, Jongho didn't move. He didn't blink. He simply went unnervingly still, a predator that had just been told exactly where the prey was hiding. His eyes didn't flash with anger; instead, they went cold. A terrifying, glacial, absolute cold that was far more dangerous than a tantrum.
The "investment" of his father's world the politics, the money, the prestige it all meant nothing in this moment. He wasn't a student, or a son of a tycoon, or a rock star. He was a man who had watched the most precious thing he had ever known be desecrated by a boy who thought he was a god because his father owned a few buildings.
"Willy," Jongho repeated. He didn't say it like a question. He said it like a sentence. A death warrant.
He felt a low, guttural growl building in his chest, a sound of pure, unadulterated malice. He looked at Yeosang, and for a fleeting second, his mask of coldness cracked, revealing a raw, bleeding tenderness.
Jongho reached out and cupped his face with both hands, his large palms warm against his skin, his thumbs stroking his cheekbones with a reverence that bordered on worship.
He turned his head slightly, his gaze sweeping over the others. He didn't need to ask for help. He didn't need a plan. He could see the same fire igniting in Mingi’s eyes, the same protective fury in Wooyoung's, and the same grim determination in Seonghwa.
"The chairman's son," Jongho said, his voice dropping to a terrifyingly calm, velvet register. He looked back at Yeosang, his eyes burning with a lethal, singular purpose. "He thinks his father's money can buy him silence. He thinks the walls of this university will protect him."
He leaned down, pressing a firm, lingering kiss to Yeosang's forehead a seal of a blood oath.
"He's wrong," Jongho hissed against his skin, his voice a promise of total destruction. "He's so fucking wrong. By the time I'm done, he won't have a name left to hide behind. And the university? They're going to watch him burn, and they're going to realize that all their gold can't stop the fire."
He stood up, his tall, menacing frame filling the room, his aura shifting from a grieving protector to a war commander. "Mingi. Get the car. We aren't waiting for the police."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The warehouse smelled of rust, stale rain, and old oil, a hollow cavern of shadows that felt miles away from the manicured lawns of Aurora. The heavy metal door groaned on its hinges as Jongho kicked it shut, the sound echoing like a gunshot through the empty space.
Willy was a mess. He had been hauled out of the haze of a trap house, smelling of cheap tequila and sweat, his designer shirt half unbuttoned as he clung to some girl who was left sobbing in a corner. He looked less like a golden god and more like a terrified, pampered animal as he was shoved into the center of the room, his hands zip tied behind his back.
"W what is this?" Willy stammered, his voice cracking as he tried to regain some semblance of his usual arrogance. "Do you guys know who my father is? You can't just... you can't just snatch me like a common thief! This is kidnapping! This is "
"This is justice, you little shit," Mingi interrupted, his voice cutting through Willy's whining like a blade.
Jongho walked a slow, predatory circle around Willy, his heavy boots thudding rhythmically on the floor. He looked like he was inspecting a piece of trash he was about to incinerate.
"You think you're special, don't you, Willy?" Jongho asked, his voice a low, conversational rasp that made the hair on the back of Willy's neck stand up.
"You think because you have a certain last name, the rules of gravity don't apply to you. You think you can just take whatever you want, whenever you want, and the world will just... polish your shoes."
"But Yeosang isn't one of your toys," Jongho hissed, his eyes burning into Willy’s soul. "And he isn't a 'mistake' your father can bribe the dean to forget."
He reached out, his hand moving with the speed of a striking viper. He didn't punch him not yet. Instead, he grabbed Willy by the front of his expensive shirt, his knuckles white, and slammed him backward against a rusted metal pillar. The clang rang through the warehouse, sharp and violent.
"He remembered your name," Jongho whispered, a dark, jagged smile tugging at his lips. "And now, it's your turn to remember mine."
Jongho’s hand moved from the shirt to Willy's throat, his grip firm but not yet crushing, just enough to let the boy feel the absolute power Jongho held over his life.
"I just care about the fact that you made him cry. And for that... there is no amount of gold in your father's vault that can save you from me."
He glanced back at Mingi, a silent command in his eyes. Mingi stepped forward, a cruel, beautiful smirk on his lips, holding a heavy, blunt object.
"Let's see how much your daddy loves you," Jongho murmured, turning his gaze back to Willy, his expression one of pure, unadulterated nihilism. "When he finds out you're not a prince anymore... but just a piece of meat we're about to tenderize."
"By the time we're done, Willy, you're going to wish you were just a scholarship student. Because at least they have nothing to lose. You? You're about to lose everything."
Willy was trembling now, a pathetic, rhythmic shuddering that made his expensive clothes rustle against the metal pillar. He tried to speak, to beg, to invoke the name of his father like a holy incantation, but the words died in his throat under the crushing weight of Jongho’s gaze.
"You're shaking, Willy," Jongho observed, his voice unnervingly calm, almost conversational. He let go of the throat, only to slide his hand up to grip Willy's jaw, forcing him to look directly into his eyes. "Is it the cold? Or is it finally starting to sink in? That for the first time in your life, no one is coming to save you."
He felt a dark, twisted sense of satisfaction. This was the justice the world of Aurora University lacked the raw, unrefined justice of the basement, the street, the places where gold couldn't buy a shield.
"Jongho..." Willy finally wheezed, a single tear of pure terror escaping and rolling down his cheek. "Please... we can... we can make it go away. Just name a price..."
Jongho’s laugh was a short, dry sound, devoid of any humor. It was the sound of something breaking. "A price? You think his soul has a price tag? You think the way he looked when he woke up in that hospital bed can be settled with a wire transfer?"
He turned his head slightly toward Mingi. "He wants to talk about money, Minki. Should we tell him how much a reputation is worth when it's dragged through the dirt?"
Mingi stepped into the light, the heavy object in his hand catching the dim glow. His eyes were cold, calculating, his inner psycho coming out . "I think," Mingi said, his voice a melodic, dangerous purr, "we should start with his teeth. They're very white. Very... expensive."
Jongho turned back to Willy, his expression shifting into something predatory and primal. He leaned in, his lips brushing against Willy's ear, his voice a low, lethal promise.
"Don't worry, Willy. We aren't going to kill you. That would be too easy. We're going to make sure you remember his name every single time you look in a mirror. Every single time you try to touch someone. Every single time you think you're a god."
Jongho stepped back, his hands relaxing, but his eyes never leaving the prey. He gave a sharp, subtle nod to the Mingi.
"Begin."
The first blow was a sickening, wet thud as Mingi swung the heavy object, catching Willy across the ribs. The sound was visceral, a hollow crack that made even Seonghwa, standing in the shadows, flinch. Willy let out a strangled, high pitched yelp, his body folding inward as he slumped against the pillar.
Every time Willy tried to crawl away from Mingi, a heavy boot, Wooyoung's or Jongho's would pin him back down, a reminder that there was no escape from the gravity of his sins.
"Please!" Willy screamed, the sound tearing through the stagnant air. "Jongho! Tell him to stop! I'll tell them! I'll tell everyone it was an accident!"
"An accident?" Jongho's voice cut through the scream, low and lethal.
He stepped forward, his shadow engulfing the broken boy on the floor. He knelt beside him, the movement graceful yet menacing.
He reached out, his fingers stained with a light spray of Willy's blood tracing the line of the boy's swollen jaw.
"You don't get to call it an accident. You made it a choice. And now, you have to live with the consequences."
Jongho's gaze drifted for a moment, his mind momentarily flickering to the sterile white room, to Yeosang's wide, observant eyes, to the way he looked so small and precious amidst the wreckage of his life.
The rage in Jongho chest flared, hot and consuming, before settling into a cold, hard diamond of resolve. He looked back at Willy, his expression one of pure, aristocratic contempt.
"You're not a prince anymore, Willy," Jongho whispered, his voice a chilling caress. "You're just a boy who thought he could play god, only to find out that gods can bleed."
He stood up, wiping his hand on a rag as if he were merely cleaning up after a mediocre meal.
Willy slumped to the concrete floor, a broken, sobbing heap of silk and bruised flesh, the warehouse fell into a heavy, panting silence. The "golden boy" was gone. In his place was a shivering, pathetic creature, clutching his stomach, his eyes glazed and unfocused.
"Look at you," Jongho whispered, the words cutting through the heavy air. "Where's your father now, Willy? Where's the prestige? Where's the godhood?"
"Leave him," Jongho commanded after Mingi had carved out 'RAPIST' in Willy's chest. "Let the police find him like this. Let the media find him like this. Let the whole fucking world see what the chairman's son looks like when he's been stripped of his crown."
He began to walk toward the exit, his mind already drifting away from the blood and the grime of the warehouse.
"Mingi," he called out over his shoulder. "Get the car ready. We're going back to Yeosang."
I'm so sorry for taking so long guys @ramadiiiisme , @nimsoon 🎀 please enjoy.
gummygunk
blakekathryn
jacobvanloon
snowghoul
titsay
janainaart
origamiaround
baratheonpilled
vaporwave
prguitarman
andulkaphoto
ellievsbear
