Nickname: R
19 || Taurus || ISFJ || she/they
Pansexual/Aroace/Demisexual
Polish/English/German/(learning) Italian but I only write in English
Ults: Rosé; Renjun; Sunghoon; Haechan; Gaon
Music Genres: Kpop, Rock, Metal
Fav Artists: Enhypen, NCT, Blackpink, XDH, BMTH, Korn, Get Scared, Rammstein, Babymetal, SOAD, Radiohead, MUSE, Nothing But Thieves, Paramore, Palaye Royale, Dawid Podsiadło, Taco Hemingway, MSI,, and many many more (I make my music taste my whole personality)
Genshin and Honkai Star Rail player !! (Yoimiya, Ganyu, Arlecchino, Luocha, Anaxa)
I'm not the most active and I write whenever I feel like it
During any interactions,, please be respectful to everyone !!!!!!!!!!!
I will mostly write for sunghoon/enhypen,, not necessarily ships/x reader ff's
(trying not to be awkward but I'll fail anyway lol)
(there will be a bookshelf/masterlist for my works in the future !!)
✦ 𝗪𝗔𝗥𝗡𝗜𝗡𝗚𝗦: [implied mental health struggles, loneliness, all of them are just sad </33, nostalgia (?), mention of (underage) cigarettes/alcohol consumption at Woonhaks]
✦ 𝗦𝗨𝗠𝗠𝗔𝗥𝗬: [six boys who live their late teenage years rather similarly yet completely differently]
✦ 𝗣𝗟𝗔𝗬𝗟𝗜𝗦𝗧: [Tokio Hotel - Pain Of Love / Get Scared - Keep Myself Alive / Fit For Rivals - Cut off Your Hands / Evanescence - Tourniquet / Paramore - Decode / Pierce The Veil - I'd Rather Die Than Be Famous]
✦ 𝗪𝗢𝗥𝗗 𝗖𝗢𝗨𝗡𝗧: [1,693]
✦ 𝗦𝗧𝗔𝗧𝗨𝗦: [complete]
✦ 𝗡𝗢𝗧𝗘𝗦: [written in 3rd person / English is NOT my first language / bear with me it's late / might edit later idk]
I see Sungho as a person who would be soft on the outside, tormenting on the inside typa person,, like he would wear normal clothes like lets say a plain beige tshirt, blue jeans, occasionally some accessories like fancy belt or smth but mostly he would be a person who hides his personality in a way,,, like he would def listen to foo fighters, early Coldplay maybe even Radiohead if hes in his feels (would love the 'concept' of the world ending),, lowkey would be either a total introvert or just an introverted extrovert,, cannot quite tell,, he would be rather (again) secretive about things he likes because maybe or maybe not he would feel too weird and would fear judgement,, just a put up guy who 'hides' well I would say,, would love late afternoon (especially during blue hour, but golden hour would fit him too) bus/bike rides while his discman plays some early Coldplay (like 'Yellow'),, in high-school hes just the polite type, does not talk much but when he does teachers always manage to agree with him,,
now once Sungho graduates (and he does that perfectly and obv attends the ceremony) he goes quiet, leaves town after a week or so,, no big goodbye, just gone, leaving all his 'friends' and acquaintances behind,, whenever someone mentiones him theres always: ''I heard he's doing well'' and thats it,, not that they knew much anyway,, he lowkey wishes he'd explained himself more instead of assuming people understood his silence,, highkey regrets every ''I'll see you around'' that was an actual goodbye,, sometimes even wonders if staying one more year would've changed anything,,, his regrets sound like: ''I handled it well…… maybe too well''
Riwoo:
Riwoo, Riwoo, Riwoo…..… what do I do with you?? well I can totally see (and now you do not have to agree) him as a goth/dark alternative kid in the 00s,,, maybe not fully goth like clothed but more like, mindset and art and all,,, would listen to the classics like The Cure, Siouxsie and the Banshees,,, and if Horror Vacui were in that era already then them as well, maybe even some Type O Negative but rarely,,, black nail polish (yes), silver jewelry, LONG COATS!! (even when it's unnecessary),, total art kid in my eyes,, like special (black) notebook and his (not so lovely aka unsettling) drawings that would make people look at him 5 times,,, would especially love drawing flowers!!,, in school most people would think of him as intimidating (crazy right??) but hes nice, not overly nice or fake nice but the decent kind where he does not overdo it yk,,, lowkey would hate loud people in class just saying,,,
now after graduating (doing it decently),, he vanishes but much more suprisingly than Sungho since I can see Riwoo actually having a small circle of 'friends' (include Taesan) who are just people he hangs around with rather than making a real connection,, and when he basically finishes school on paper, the next moment he cuts all contacts,, like a total ghost,, no updates,, no goodbyes, no nothing,,, probably would have wished he'd allowed at least one person to really see him (cough cough taesan cough cough),, he was overall a rather distanced person so probably regrets leaving without clarifying anything even at Surface level (mistook distance for strength),,
Jaehyun:
Jaehyun WOULD be a social butterfly even in that era,,, BUT would listen to garage/indie rock like The Strokes, early Arctic Monkeys,, maybe even The White Stripes,, leather jacket, messy hair, glasses (normal or sun ones,, just yes),, always looks cool lol,,, knows everyone but is not obnoxious in any way,, sneaks out often and when gets caught he somehow always manages to overcome the punishment that his parents set up for him,,, local gig and party goer,, probably flirts without meaning to,, would have a MySpace page with some ironic captions like: smexy, too glam to give a damn, get crunk (XDD),, MOST likely to become someones hallway crush,, yepp
now when this dude graduates (and he does because hes smart,, funny and chaotic but smart),, he attends someones party and makes it his own,, afterwards goes like to a college on to something creative like design or even media, MAYBE music,,, still knows everyones name years later and probably reminiscents how he wishes he did something differently,, also thinks that he should have taken more things seriously like heavy talks instead of brshing them off with jokes,, realizes later that not everyone had the luxury of moving on easily,, and thinks about how some friendships faded without conflict - just neglect,,
Taesan:
I am emo!taesan truther,, bro would (and hopefully will in the future) listen to Muse, early Panic! At The Disco, The Killers even (obv My Chemical Romance),, and if Get Scared existed in that era bro would LOVE THEM!!!!,, not necessarily emo but Radiohead and Nine Inch Nails maybe too,,, now about his fashion in the 00s,, he would be just wearing all black, band tees, plenty of bracelets and bag pins along with stickers on his binders,, would definitely wear black converse where he could (and would) write some MCR lyrics on the white part :PP,, dare I say either snake bites or tounge piercing??,, headphones on 24/7 (maybe except during lessons yk),, type of person that would be annoyed if someone tried to talk to him when he clearly has his headphones on,, spends HOURS on online forums discovering obscure bands (maybe would stumble upon 2008 BMTH??? who knows),, writes angsty poetry and maybe even posts some on MySpace but rarely so,, bro does not fin neither wants to,, if we spoke of MySpace,, later on he goes from MySpace to Tumblr very quick :PP,, lowkey the misunderstood genius (called cold, weird and obv emo) who feels too much and thinks too deeply
Taesan would in fact not graduate at first due to his mental health,, considers giving up completely but the 'feeler' in him could not let that slide so he approached that year once again,, clearly burnt out but still managed,, with none to talk to would isolate himself very often and would struggle to go back on track later on,,, 00s era Taesan clearly regrets equating struggle with weakness even when he's clearly aware but cannot help but stay in that wrong mindset of his because he would be too scared of failure and embarassment,, struggled with asking for help back then and the struggle kept on growing in his adult life,, also due to the fact that he had nearly zero friends he also did not go to graduation,, later on regrets that - not for the ceremony but for some kind of closure,, he clearly saw himself as someone invisible throughout his whole high school experience and might have turned into that as well,,,
Leehan:
SAD INDIE BOY! :<,, read: soft sweaters (with blouses underneath), oversized scraves, GENTLE VOICE!! but does not talk much (selective mutism??),, Leehans playlist would include some indie/dream pop/shoegaze music like Beach House, M83, early Death Cab for Cutie, Slowdive and Cigarettes After Sex,, stares out of windows a LOT,, picks up flowers on his way home and keeps them til their petals fall out just to put them in a jar,, writes letters,, quietly cries a lot </333 but only in his room and might or might not cover his mouth since he does not want anybody to hear him,, I see him as type of person in the 00s who would be rather sensitive yet confused about his emotions but also strong when it comes to facing problems
graduates and later tears up at the fact that everyone will go their own seperate ways and that he himself has to go a new way and that just simply scares him,, could not help but distance himself due to fear and anxiety which made him sad even more,, basically stopped answering messages and deleted all socials (if he had any),, I can see him becoming ''whatever happened to him'' type of person,,, definitely regrets being all silent instead of talking or even trying to,, had many opportunities where he could have said ''I'm not okay'' but still chose withdrawal because he did not want to be a burden,, always had the hope that people would notice his sad eyes and always was met with silent disappointment and internal shame that he even thought of such thing happening,,
Woonhak:
WOONHAK WOONHAK WOONHAK,, sk8er boi!!,, all cool and all fine,,, pop punk/emo-lite like Fall Out Boy, Paramore, even Blink-182,, would also love some rap too!!,, baggy jeans ON TOP for him together with some baggy shirts and blouses,,, what do we think of bandanas???,, Woonhak is always on the move, always laughing and always smiling be it school or not,,, also, skips class once and immediatly feels bad about it, as well as trying alcohol/cigarettes for the first time ever behind the blocks T_T,,, at home has two floorstanding speakers that blast his type of music everyday that causes his sister to nag at him lol,, dare I say Woonhak would have some sort of soft spot for Coldplay and maybe even Radiohead (Kid A)??,,,
barely graduates and is very happy about it since ITS FINALLY OVER ZYEAHHH!!,, lowkey shocked most teachers by that lol,,, tries to stay optimistic and stays in touch with everyone for the next half a year after graduation and becomes the only glue that kept some people from ghosting but later on realizes how tiring that is,,, def regrets being too optimistic, even foolish at Times by thinking that joy could fix everyone and everything,, wishes he'd known how to sit with sadness instead of distracting himself from it (it might lead him to bad coping mechanism </33),, regarding joy fixing everything,, REGRETS not realizing how much others were hurting,, often wonders if being this 'foolish/childish' was the reason why lots of people decided to give up on keeping in touch
Sungho disappears quietly
Riwoo disappears deliberately
Jaehyun disappears into distraction
Taesan disappears into himself
Leehan disappears because he’s afraid
Woonhak tries too hard to stay
A/N: well well well,,, new obsession new post ig,, but jokes aside I've really been into BND for the past 5 months or so (I have not forgotten nor abandoned Enhypen tho!) and thought about writing this,,, wrote this and now here it is,, might not make much sense since i wrote what was in my mind and i am a little bit too tired now to proofread it properly so :P
im very much alive guys aaaaaand,,, i started stanning boynextdoor recently sooo i might or might not have a draft (unfortunately,, still not finished </33) of bnd being teens in 2000s (again, ANGST (quick act suprised)),,, when will i post it??? GIRL I wish i knew that but i dont soooo,,, lets just patiently wait :] </333
edit: here it issssss :P:P:P:P:P
edit once again: do NOT tell me that ive been some kind of shadowbanned or some sort of shit,, like BRO,, why is my post suddenly all hidden??????????? WHYY T_T
✦ 𝗚𝗘𝗡𝗥𝗘: [angst / psychological thriller / coming of age / tragedy]
✦ 𝗪𝗔𝗥𝗡𝗜𝗡𝗚𝗦: [dissociation / loneliness\isolation / depression / suicide (off-screen)] [This story contains potentially triggering content and is not meant to romanticize or glorify it in any way. Please proceed with care.]
✦ 𝗦𝗨𝗠𝗠𝗔𝗥𝗬: [No one noticed the quietest goodbyes — until it echoed too loud to ignore.]
✦ 𝗣𝗟𝗔𝗬𝗟𝗜𝗦𝗧: [ROAR - Bad Grammar]
✦ 𝗪𝗢𝗥𝗗 𝗖𝗢𝗨𝗡𝗧: [6,659]
✦ 𝗦𝗧𝗔𝗧𝗨𝗦: [complete]
✦ 𝗡𝗢𝗧𝗘𝗦: [written in 3rd person / English is NOT my first lanuage / might hit a little too close to home (for me at least lol)]
It was the time. To finally start the letters. To finally get himself to do the thing he has been thinking/fantasizing/idealizing about for the past two months.
Grabbing a pen, a sheet of paper, and his head full of noise, he finally sat by his desk, staring at the paper as if all his thoughts would somehow escape from his mind and write themselves and form a letter. Sighing, he picked at the skin near is thumb with his teeth and then started writing.
This is a letter of thanks to the teachers who helped me through my high school years. I didn’t know how to say this out loud, but I wanted to make sure it was said.
Dear Ms. Lee,
looking back on this school year (and the ones before), I wanted to express how thankful I am for your support and the way you showed up for your students — especially me. It made a difference. I wanted to thank you for something that’s stuck with me ever since it happened — even if you might not remember it. Back in December of 20XX, when I had that panic attack and you went looking for me, it meant more than I can put into words.
When you found me in the bathroom and gave me space while still checking in — asking gently if I needed someone — it was one of those moments that made me feel both better and worse. Better, because I realized I wasn’t as invisible as I had started to believe. And worse, because I felt like I’d made people worry — something I’m still sorry for.
Even in January 20XX, when I cried again (a recurring theme, I'm sorry), you were one of the few people at school who felt safe to talk to. I still remember you offering to help me find a therapist. That moment made me feel seen and taken seriously in a way I didn’t expect — and that stayed with me.
As for current (12th) grade year, I’m immensely thankful that Japanese classes were — at least for me — the absolute best part. The atmosphere was genuinely fun and supportive. I really appreciated that you (and later Ms. Cho too) made sure every question and misunderstanding was cleared up, without making anyone feel uncomfortable for asking.
Also, seeing the (unfortunate) stress some of my classmates went through in their other language courses — especially with those oral interrogations — made me realize just how grateful I was (and still am) that we didn’t have to go through that. Not because I didn’t want to study, but because those kinds of assessments are extremely stressful, and I’m pretty sure many of us in the Japanese class felt relieved, if not outright thankful, that we were spared that extra pressure (and those stomach-aches too).
That bit of “freedom” — not having to constantly ''perform'' — definitely made me more comfortable and confident in participating in class. It also helped me gain a real interest in the language itself, and I fully plan on continuing to study Japanese on my own.
I'm also really grateful for your patience and for always being willing to listen — even when I went on rants about my Mathematics teachers. I appreciated it not because I wanted them to get in trouble or anything like that, but because it meant a lot that you took what I said seriously instead of brushing it off like others might’ve.
Overall, I’m honestly so glad I got to have you as a teacher. You were one of the best I could’ve asked for. Thank you for being such a thoughtful and supportive educator — please don’t change. This school (and the world, really) needs more teachers like you.
Wishing you a great summer and an even greater future,
Park Sunghoon, 11th of July 2025.
He folded the paper in half, twice, and set it aside on the corner of his desk. Then, without a word, he put the pen down, stood up, and turned off the light.
One down. Three to go. Tomorrow, Ms. Seong.
8th of July 2025 6:34
The second letter was a little bit harder. A teacher that felt close yet distant.
He was up earlier than usual. Previously dreaming about writing another letter, another few hundreds of words, thousands of symbols. Not the best sleep he imagined but deciding that waking up earlier and getting that behind him was the best option.
This is a letter of thanks to the teachers who helped me through my high school years. I didn’t know how to say this out loud, but I wanted to make sure it was said.
Dear Ms. Seong,
I’ve been thinking about the past few years and all the teachers who made a lasting impact on me — and I knew I couldn’t leave without saying thank you.
You were one of the people who made a real difference during my time at school, and I just wanted to let you know how much I appreciated your kindness, your support, and the atmosphere you created in class. There were moments — especially when I got overwhelmed or emotional — where your words meant more to me than I could express at the time.
I still remember how gently and kindly you responded when I started crying during that presentation — and later, when I told you I wasn’t feeling too confident about my exam in 11th grade. Your words helped more than you probably realized. I was (and still am) really grateful for your encouragement, even if part of me also felt embarrassed for getting emotional. I hope it didn’t make things awkward — it just meant I felt safe enough to be honest in that moment.
And of course, I have to mention the Christmas calendar from 11th grade — it honestly left such a warm impression, not just on me but on the whole class. It was thoughtful in a way we don’t always expect at school, and I still remember it fondly.
Then there was English Book Club, which genuinely became something I looked forward to. It was such a refreshing space — fun, relaxed, and open. Everyone could share their opinions without judgment, and it made discussing books feel exciting rather than stressful. I especially appreciated the book choices — not the usual light romance stuff (not hating, promise), but stories with layers and meaning that we could actually explore and interpret together.
Just wanted to say thank you — truly — for the moments, big and small, that made a difference. I’m really grateful to have had you as a teacher.
Have a great summer! Wishing you lots of good reads, calm days, good health, and students who appreciate you as much as I did.
Park Sunghoon, 11th July 2025.
He read it over once. No edits. Just a quick hesitation. Then he folded it.
The letter joined the first one on his desk — tucked into a blank envelope, last name written in his smallest, neatest print. Just like the other one. He laid them side by side, edges aligned, like tiny tombstones.
Two down. Two more. And then it would be over.
He blinked. Then again. And again. Something in his chest ached.
He wasn’t crying. But he felt like he should’ve been.
No one else was home. And that was fine by him. He didn’t have much to say today, anyway.
9th of July 2025 18:12
He almost didn’t write today. Sat on his bed too long. Thought about skipping it. Wondered if the third letter really mattered.
But he knew better. He always planned for four.
So he got up. Sat down. And wrote.
I’m writing this letter to thank the teachers who supported me during my high school years. Even though I’ve never been good at putting it into words, it was important for me to say it anyway.
Dear Mr. Yoon,
When I look back on the past few years, I think of the teachers who truly made a difference—not just through what they taught, but especially through how they shaped our everyday school life. You were definitely one of those teachers, and I just wanted to say thank you.
Since the 10th grade, your classes have felt like a place where everything was a bit less stressful. That might sound like a small thing, but it meant a lot — especially during times when school felt overwhelming. I really appreciated that you created that kind of atmosphere.
I’m also truly thankful for your empathy — not just when grading exams (although your fairness and understanding definitely helped), but in general. It always felt like you saw us as people — not just as students.
His phone buzzed. He immediately frowned. A message — someone from school. That someone being Jay.
"Yo, are you alive or just being emo and avoiding us all week? -_- We’re going for bubble tea later if you crawl out of your cave."
He didn’t answer. Didn’t even unlock the screen. Just turned the phone face down and reached to continue.
And of course, I learned a lot in your classes—especially in Korean and history. But what really stuck with me was the way you taught. You didn’t just explain topics, you brought them to life. It was your energy and passion when you spoke that made the material interesting and tangible—not just facts we had to memorize.
And then, of course, your jokes. Simply iconic. “Eating backwards” is now the name of one of my playlists, and “Canvas white — knows what we don’t know” still makes me laugh whenever I think about it. Little things like that gave the class so much personality — and made the days a whole lot easier.
Thank you for being the kind of teacher who could make the day better just by being yourself — with your humor, your honesty, and your unique way of doing things. I’m truly glad I got to be in your class.
With kind regards,
Park Sunghoon, 11th of July 2025.
He carefully placed the letter with the others and sighed. His phone buzzed again — this time a call. He stared at the screen but didn’t answer. Instead, he typed a quick message:
"Maybe tomorrow."
He wasn’t sure if he meant the letter, the bubble tea, or something else entirely. The quiet house swallowed the words as he set the phone face down.
Rising, he walked to the window. Outside, the sky darkened, clouds rolling in like quiet thunder. The storm was coming. Something about the upcoming night unsettled him — a restless energy he couldn’t shake. He didn’t know why, but it felt like everything was about to change.
"Just one more." He let the thought settle, heavy and strange, before finally pulling the curtains closed.
10th of July 2025 03:35
And he was right. He jolted awake, heart pounding, cold sweat clinging to his skin. The nightmare lingered like smoke in his mind — fragmented images he couldn’t quite grasp, shadows pressing in from all sides.
The room was dark and silent, but sleep wouldn’t return.
He reached over to his desk and switched on the lamp, its weak glow barely cutting through the night. A blank sheet of paper stared back at him.
With trembling hands, he picked up his pen and started to write.
This letter is a thank you to the teachers who supported me during my high school years. I never really knew how to say it out loud, but it was important to me to at least write it down.
Dear Mr. Hong,
When I look back on this school year (and the previous ones), I want to express my gratitude to you — for your support and for being there for your students.
First of all, I want to thank you for what you said to me after the English exam. I didn’t break down because of the grade, but because of your words. They genuinely touched me. A failed exam usually just feels like failure — but in that moment, I felt understood. And that changed everything. Still, I’m sorry if my reaction made you uncomfortable in any way. That was never my intention, and I truly appreciated your kindness.
I am also grateful for how you balanced your teaching methods with those of Mr. Kang. You were a bit stricter, and I know that didn’t sit well with everyone in the class — but I saw what was behind it. You wanted us to really improve, to take writing seriously, and to bring some structure to the chaos. And even if not everyone appreciated that — I did.
But as the ink touched the paper, the words started to wobble, twisting and melting into each other like ink dissolving in water. The sharp edges of the letters softened, and soon the sentences became a haze — a jumble of shapes and shadows that made no sense. His head throbbed fiercely, each heartbeat echoing in his temples like a drumbeat he couldn’t quiet. The room seemed to tilt, colors bleeding at the edges, sounds muffled and distant, as if he were watching himself from far away.
His breath came shallow and quick, chest tightening with a weight he couldn’t name. Time stretched and folded — minutes folded into seconds, and seconds slipped like sand through his fingers. He blinked rapidly, desperate to clear the fog in his mind, to grab hold of the words before they vanished completely.
But the harder he tried, the further they drifted — slipping beyond the reach of reason and control.
For a moment, he felt like he was disappearing, like the self who wanted to write, to say something real, was dissolving into nothingness.
Yet, somewhere deep beneath the blur and pain, a small spark held on. He willed himself to keep going, letter by shaky letter, until the sentences began to form again, fragile but present — a tether to reality he couldn’t yet let go.
Another moment that stayed with me was your mention of the Oedipus myth. Maybe for you it was just a brief side note, but it sparked my interest in Greek mythology. Even though that interest is still developing slowly — it’s there, and I definitely want to pursue it further. Thank you for that as well.
And… I’m sorry that you had to struggle through my pitiful attempts at writing in English. Maybe it was sometimes entertaining — or just exhausting. Maybe both. But in my defense: I can interpret things on a deeper level — just not in English yet. The language barrier is a constant challenge for me, and I often find myself stuck between wanting to improve and feeling unsure how. But I’m doing my best.
Thank you again — for your patience, your honesty, and for pushing us when it really mattered.
I wish you and your family health and all the best for the future.
Kind regards,
Park Sunghoon, July 11th 2025.
Two hours later, the letter was finished. He folded it carefully, his hands steadier now. Four letters lying on his desk, named with corresponding last names.
Exhausted, he finally let himself fall back to sleep — into a restless but deeper silence.
10th of July 16:23
Sunghoon woke up sometime after noon, the late light of the afternoon filtering softly through the curtains. His head still throbbed faintly, but the haze from the night had lifted enough for him to move through the day.
He got up slowly, his body heavy but obedient. After a quick stretch, he slipped into his clothes — the kind of clothes that felt like a quiet retreat from the weight of the world. The lingering touch of warm water droplets from the shower felt like a fragile promise — cleansing, but not enough to wash away everything. Still, it was something.
After drying off, he went to his parents’ closet and pulled out the suit he had carefully stored away. The protective foil was a little dusty, edges curling slightly like a forgotten memory. He ran his fingers over the fabric beneath the plastic, feeling the weight of the moment settling in.
Carrying the suit and shoes to his room, he set them down gently on the bed, as if not to disturb the silence hanging in the air. Carefully, he peeled back the foil, releasing the suit from its cocoon. It smelled faintly of fabric softener and something old—like a dream waiting to be lived.
Sunghoon laid the suit flat, smoothing the creases with methodical, almost reverent motions. Next, he took the shoes, polished to a soft shine, and placed them neatly beside the jacket.
He stood in front of the mirror, examining his reflection — a boy on the edge of something new, something final. The face staring back at him looked familiar yet strange, like a photograph slightly faded by time. His eyes, tired but steady, held a quiet strength beneath the weariness. For a moment, he traced the line of his jaw and the curve of his lips, as if trying to memorize the version of himself that existed right now — before everything changed.
There was a weight behind his gaze, the weight of years packed into a few short moments. The suit waiting on the bed wasn’t just fabric and thread; it was a symbol of endings and beginnings, a marker of the person he was about to become — and the one he was leaving behind. He swallowed the lump in his throat, breath catching as the enormity of tomorrow settled over him like a silent tide.
He took a slow breath, steadying himself against the flood of thoughts and emotions he wasn’t ready to name.
“It’s finally tomorrow,” he whispered to himself.
The words hung in the room, fragile but undeniable.
11th of July 2025
06:12
The rain hadn’t stopped all night.
It came down steady and hard, drumming against the windows with a kind of unrelenting insistence — not chaotic, not violent, just constant. Like the sky was trying to speak. Or apologize. Or maybe just cry for him.
Sunghoon stood in the narrow hallway of his home, fully dressed in his suit. His fingers hovered near the doorknob, unmoving. His tie was neatly knotted, his shoes polished to a soft gleam. The fabric of the blazer felt too stiff, too formal — not quite like his, even though he wanted it to feel like it was. Like a version of himself he was supposed to grow into. Like something that might finally fit if he waited long enough.
But he wore it anyway. Like armor. Like ritual.
Like someone preparing to be seen for the last time.
In his inner pocket: the folded program for the graduation ceremony. In his tote bag: a water bottle, and the letters — all four of them, neatly sealed.
The date printed at the top of the program stared back at him. 11th of July 2025.
It looked unreal. Like something he’d been walking toward for years but never really believed he’d reach.
Behind him, the house stayed silent. No clinking dishes. No sleepy footsteps overhead. No whispered goodbyes. Everyone was still asleep — or pretending to be.
He opened the door quietly, like a guest in his own life, and stepped into the rain.
The umbrella opened with a soft snap, catching the downpour as he stepped onto the street, a dark silhouette swallowed by a grey morning.
06:36
The bus was nearly empty — just two elderly passengers near the front, and a driver who looked like he hadn’t slept either. The city was slow to wake.
Sunghoon slid into his usual seat — third row from the back. Headphones in. Head against the window, breath fogging the glass.
Outside, the world passed in streaks. Pavement blurred with reflected headlights. Raindrops chasing each other down car windows. Trees shivering under the weight of soaked leaves. Everything was grey and silver, dulled by the kind of rain that seemed to wash the edges off reality.
ROAR’s Bad Grammar played softly in his ears — muted but sharp, like a thought you tried not to have. It wasn’t a song you’d think to play on a day like this — and yet, it fit too well.
“This life is punctuated by some missteps…”
“…you try to say what you mean
‘I have to leave, but I’m not ready'”
"Lip-sync the comforting scene
Trembling jaws can't stop stuttering”
The lyrics sank deep into the spaces no one else could reach — the parts of him too quiet, too tired to fight.
He tapped the side of his phone to check the time. Still early. Too early to be anywhere but here.
"I can't see you when I need to
How am I supposed to get through?
Method-actor, suffering
Try repeating once again, this time with feeling"
His fingers curled into the fabric of his pants inside his pocket. He closed his eyes — not to sleep, just to be somewhere else for a second, just to disappear for a moment. Just to let the song echo in the hollow place inside his chest. To pretend the day hadn’t started yet.
“Waited all night for you
Waited all night for you…”
The rain softened to a mist outside the bus windows, clinging to the glass like breath.
Everything was quiet.
Everything was waiting.
07:35
The rain had thinned to a quiet drizzle by the time Sunghoon stepped off the bus. The streets still glistened, painted with leftover stormlight and the hush of a city not quite awake.
He walked toward the school gates, the sky hanging low, grey and soft above him. The building stood like it always did — too familiar to feel significant, too big to hold everything it had meant. Still, it felt different today. Like it knew.
Inside, the corridors were mostly empty. The air smelled like wet paper and floor polish, with a faint undertone of chalk and memory. His footsteps echoed against the linoleum as he made his way down the hall.
The teachers’ office was dimly lit — just one of the side lamps switched on, casting warm light over the desks and file cabinets. A teacher he didn’t recognize well — maybe one from the science department — sat at her desk typing something, her hair still damp from the rain.
She looked up as he entered, offering a small, polite smile.
“Oh — you’re here early,” she said. “Graduation doesn’t start for a while though.”
“I know,” Sunghoon replied quietly. He reached into his tote bag and pulled out the four letters, each sealed, names neatly written on the front in dark ink. Like he wanted.
He approached the main desk and placed them there carefully, almost ceremonially — as if they were fragile. Or sacred.
“Should I… write your name on them?” the teacher asked, rising from her chair and gesturing toward a pen. “So they know who they're from?”
Sunghoon paused, then shook his head gently. “It’s written inside,” he said. “And… they’re not really from me anyway.”
The teacher blinked, clearly unsure what to say, but nodded slowly. “Alright then.” she said, her voice softer this time.
He offered a small bow and turned to leave, the weight of the moment lingering in the air behind him.
As he stepped back into the hallway, something inside him loosened. Like an exhale he’d been holding for days. The pressure behind his ribs didn’t vanish, but it settled — like the rain had.
He didn’t look back.
Just kept walking, hands in his pockets, a quiet kind of relief sitting low in his chest.
He knew the letters would be opened later — maybe that afternoon, maybe the next day.
But they were no longer his to carry.
And that was enough. For now.
08:02
He arrived on foot, the soles of his dress shoes slick from the rain, which had finally slowed to a hush. The air smelled like wet concrete and something unspoken — the kind of stillness that came right before something irreversible.
The auditorium loomed ahead, doors still closed, its overhang sheltering him from the drizzle. He slipped his phone from his pocket and opened the group chat — Heeseung, Jay, Jake, and him. A message from Jake, sent at 07:40, sat waiting near the bottom:
Jake: when u guys getting there?? i don’t wanna be the first loser in a suit lmao
Sunghoon typed quietly:
Me: already here
It didn’t take long for Jay to respond:
Jay: damn O.o we’ll be there in like 30-40
Sunghoon put his phone away. The sky was lightening in patches. Drops fell rhythmically from the edge of the roof.
A girl approached - he recognized her from Japanese class. Iseul, maybe. She still held her umbrella, water sliding down its sides. Her makeup was subtle, her dress neat and pressed, but there was something in her posture that gave away her nerves.
“Do you know if we can go in yet?” she asked, offering a tentative smile.
He shook his head. “Not sure. Probably soon.”
She nodded, hesitating. Then she looked at him again and said, “You look nice, by the way.”
Sunghoon blinked. “You too,” he said.
The words surprised him — not just for how easy they were to say, but for how true they felt.
Her friend called her from across the walkway, waving her over. Iseul smiled once more, then walked off, heels tapping gently on the wet pavement as her umbrella swung by her side.
Sunghoon remained under the overhang, the sound of the rain softening behind him.
Waiting. But soon no longer alone.
08:37
Heeseung and Jay arrived together, laughter trailing behind them like a second soundtrack to the morning. Both looked sharp in dark suits and crisp shirts — Jay’s hair pushed back like he’d actually taken time for it, Heeseung’s tie just slightly loosened in a way that somehow made it cooler.
Heeseung spotted Sunghoon first and waved, the grin already on his face.
“You look like someone’s about to get married,” he called out.
Sunghoon gave a faint, crooked smile. “Maybe I am.”
Jay laughed, nudging Heeseung as they joined him under the overhang. Water dripped steadily from the edge of the roof, catching light in small silver beads.
They talked — mostly Jay and Heeseung. About the vice principal’s likely speech length (“Thirty minutes of thank-yous and name-dropping,” Jay guessed), about which teacher would cry first (“My bet’s still on Ms. Kwon,” Heeseung said), and about the weirdness of standing here in suits, no longer students.
Sunghoon nodded occasionally. Smiled at the right times. His hands stayed in his pockets, eyes shifting between their faces and the sky. It wasn’t that he didn’t care — it was that he couldn’t quite reach the place where they were. Like watching it all through glass.
Still, he held onto their voices like something grounding.
At 08:42, Jake arrived, practically bouncing down the path in wet sneakers and an inside - out umbrella under his arm. His suit was decent, but the tie hung crooked, and his hair looked like it had fought with the wind — and lost.
“Yoooii, I made it!” Jake beamed. “Didn’t think the bus would actually come through today.”
He greeted the others with one - armed hugs and a loud “Damn, look at you all!” before turning to Sunghoon with a grin. “You clean up good, man.”
“Thanks,” Sunghoon murmured. His voice barely rose over the drizzle, but Jake heard it and smiled wider anyway.
For a few minutes they stood like that — the four of them, just breathing together in the space before it all began. The rain had faded into mist, the clouds thinning above them.
Then Sunghoon broke the quiet. “Wanna take some photos?”
Jay perked up immediately. “Hell yeah. We can’t graduate without proof.”
They huddled close under the overhang. Jay took a few selfies, lifting his phone high and counting down dramatically. Jake set his phone on a bench, fiddling with the timer before sprinting back into frame with a goofy pose. Heeseung gave him bunny ears. Jay laughed mid-shot. Sunghoon just smiled — not wide, not bright, but real.
No one said it out loud, but they all felt it: this was one of those memories they’d carry.
Even as the auditorium doors opened, even as the ceremony loomed just minutes away — they stayed there a little longer.
Framed in quiet rain and fading light.
Almost ready.
08:56
The auditorium filled slowly, students in suits and dresses drifting toward their assigned rows like leaves caught in a soft current. There was a hum of conversation, the occasional cough or shoe squeak on polished floors. Everything felt rehearsed — in sound, in rhythm, in expectation.
Sunghoon sat somewhere in the middle, flanked by Jay on his right and Jake just beyond that. Heeseung was a few seats down, chatting with someone across the aisle.
The ceremony began.
The principal stepped up to the podium first, voice steady, measured. Words about growth. About potential. About “new beginnings.” Applause followed, then the vice principal — her tone warmer, more familiar. A joke that made the crowd chuckle, followed by a slow return to seriousness.
Sunghoon clapped when he was supposed to. His hands moved on cue, like they belonged to someone else. But his mind was far, far away.
His eyes stayed on the stage, but he wasn’t watching. His ears registered the words, but nothing stuck. The lights above seemed too bright. His chest felt oddly weightless — like a balloon half full of air, floating somewhere just outside of his body.
He didn’t want to be ungrateful. He didn’t want to feel this strange.
But the moment didn’t fit him.
He felt like he was watching the last scene of a film he was never fully in — the kind where you recognize all the actors but none of the plot. The applause, the speeches, the congratulations. They were for someone else. Someone who made it.
He blinked slowly, breath shallow. Something in him pressed against the surface — not panic, not sadness exactly, just... pressure. A quiet ache begging to be moved.
Somewhere between the third speech and the early award announcements, he leaned slightly toward Jay.
“I need to go to the bathroom,” he murmured.
Jay frowned, just a little. “Now?”
Sunghoon gave a small shrug. Didn’t elaborate. Didn’t smile.
Jake, who had been scrolling through the ceremony pamphlet in his lap, looked over. “Where’s he going?” he whispered.
Jay paused, eyes on Sunghoon’s retreating figure. “Oh,” he said, softly.
Jake nodded once. “Alright.”
Sunghoon stepped into the side aisle and walked out through the nearest exit. The thick auditorium doors sealed shut behind him, muffling the sound of clapping and microphone feedback until it felt miles away.
The hallway was dim and still.
He didn’t rush. Just walked. Each footstep echoing faintly, softened by the hum of distant rain on the roof. He slipped one hand into his pocket, his fingers brushing the smooth fabric lining — just something to hold onto.
And then, without thinking, he started to hum. Quietly. The same song from that morning.
ROAR — Bad Grammar. The melody still lingered in his bones.
“Waited all night for you… waited all night for you…”
He reached the staircase that led to the roof.
Paused. Looked up.
His hand rested on the railing. He began to climb.
The door to the rooftop creaked open with a rusted sigh.
The rain had returned in a soft drizzle, barely more than mist, brushing against his skin like breath. The city stretched out beneath him — damp, grey, and indifferent. Buildings stacked in layers of concrete and wet glass, cars moving like tired insects along glistening roads.
Sunghoon stepped forward, the wind catching the edge of his jacket. The rooftop felt both impossibly vast and suffocatingly small.
His footsteps echoed on the gravel. He walked toward the ledge like he was walking through water — slowly, steadily, as though the space around him had thickened. Each step tugged at something behind his ribs, something sore.
He reached the edge.
The drop below wasn’t visible at first — just a stretch of low clouds and soft fog. He stood there, his hands at his sides, fingertips slightly curled.
For a long moment, he didn’t move.
The wind stirred again. It smelled of metal and summer rain. Something final.
He didn’t cry.
His chest was quiet. Not calm — just emptied out. Like a room after everything had been packed and carried away.
He closed his eyes.
Behind them: flashes of things he wouldn’t say out loud.
Late night letters. A trembling voice he once tried to silence. His mother’s laughter before she got tired of pretending. Jake’s uneven tie. The urges. The feeling of a pencil slipping in his hand during finals. The bus rides. The songs and melodies. The ache.
Then, slowly - almost cautiously - he turned around.
His heels settled against the edge, soles balanced between safety and sky. The ledge pressed cold through the soles of his shoes, grounding and vanishing all at once.
Now he faced away from the drop, toward the sky.
An expanse of pale grey stretched above him, layered in muted light and low-hanging clouds. Not dramatic. Just endless. Soft. The kind of sky that didn’t ask questions. The kind that held everything and answered nothing.
His arms stayed loose at his sides.
He tilted his head back. His lashes were damp, the rain gathering in delicate drops that clung for a moment before slipping down, tracing the quiet lines of his face. Not tears. Not exactly. Just something leaving him.
The wind combed gently through his hair, lifting the collar of his suit jacket. It felt like a hand he almost remembered — familiar, then gone.
He stood there, breathing in the thick, rain-soaked air. Each inhale heavier than the last. There was no clarity, no final burst of emotion, no thunder in his chest.
Just the quiet ache of everything.
Of all the things he never said out loud. Of the mornings that came too soon. Of the weight of waiting for nothing to change. Of walking through hallways full of noise and never being heard. Of feeling like a shadow in his own life.
It wasn’t about giving up. Not really. It was about letting go. Finally. Quietly.
A part of him almost smiled.
No one was watching. No one would stop him. The world would keep moving. The sun would still rise tomorrow. The letters had been delivered. His seat was still warm in the auditorium. It would take a few minutes for anyone to notice. If ever.
That was okay.
With one last breath — steady, slow, and deep — he leaned back.
Gravity greeted him like an old friend he never had.
The wind rushed past his ears, swallowing the sound of the world. The rooftop vanished above. The sky turned into streaks. The city below reached up like a blur of memory and motion.
And for the briefest moment — he felt weightless.
No thoughts. No voice in his head. No goodbye.
Just the air, the fall and the hush of release.
Back in the auditorium, the ceremony had settled into its steady rhythm — too slow to feel real, too scripted to feel comforting.
One of the school counselors stood at the podium now, her voice calm and measured, crafted carefully to sound both sincere and light. She spoke about resilience. About change. About how endings are beginnings in disguise. Her words were warm, practiced, well-intentioned — and barely heard.
Some students were zoning out, their legs jittering beneath their chairs. Others whispered behind open programs, their eyes darting between phones and the stage. A few parents were wiping quiet tears — the kind they thought they were supposed to shed.
In the third row, Jake leaned over toward Jay and murmured, “He’s been gone a while, hasn’t he?”
Jay blinked, then glanced at the empty seat beside them.
“Yeah,” he said. “Guess so.”
But before either of them could say more—
A sound cleaved through the air.
A sound cut through it all. A sharp, sickening crack.
Not a bang. Not a shout. Just a low, splitting noise — the kind that bypasses the ears and hits the spine. Like the ground itself had fractured. Like a tree splitting in a storm. Or bones colliding with earth. Or all of them together, at the same time. Like something very alive had suddenly stopped being.
It was soft, but it was wrong and everyone knew it. The room responded before anyone understood. Silence dropped like a sheet over the crowd. Conversations clipped off mid-word. A laugh died in someone’s throat.
Every head turned, almost involuntarily, toward the glass rear doors of the auditorium - the ones that opened to the school garden.
Rain tapped lightly on the glass now, tracing long lines down the windows.
A teacher stood, slowly. Another followed, murmuring something no one heard. Someone reached for their phone but didn’t unlock it. Everyone stared.
Because outside - past the blurred glass door, just beyond the threshold, beneath the pale grey light of the overcast morning — there was a figure.
Sprawled. Still.
A pale boy in a dark suit, half-turned on his side. One arm folded beneath him at a grotesque angle. The other outstretched, palm open as if offering something to the air. The rain painted his outline, falling softly onto his shoulders, into his hair, mixing with the red deep silence that was already pooling beneath him.
Blood bloomed beneath him, running into the cracks of the tiles like it was trying to disappear. Trying to vanish before anyone could really see it. Like it couldn’t stand to be seen
But it was too late. Everyone had seen it. For a moment, no one moved. No one could. It was as if the world had exhaled and forgotten how to breathe again.
The boy who always sat in the third row from the back on the bus. The one who never raised his hand, never interrupted. The quiet one. The polite one. The one who always smiled small and said he was fine.
And now he was right there - the loudest silence in the world.
A student’s chair scraped back, slow and shaky. Another one stood. A gasp - not a scream - echoed faintly. The counselor at the podium froze, mid-sentence. Her hands trembled where they clutched the paper. Her lips parted, but no words came.
Someone whispered, “Is that—?”
But the name didn’t follow.
Because no one wanted to say it.
Because saying it would make it real.
Because deep down, they all already knew.
It was him. Park Sunghoon.
And he was gone. No speech. No warning. Just nowhere to be felt.
No final words. No cinematic moment. Just gravity. And rain. And something inside him that had gone quiet a long time ago finally going still.
The invisible boy had given them the most visible ending. The quietest presence had made the loudest exit.
And outside, beneath the sky that never stopped weeping, the rain kept falling.
Not just on the roof. But onto him as well.
A/N: well well,, if it isn't my comeback after like 7 months lol,, but yeah here it is,, it has been on my mind since like the beginning of July sooo plus I've already wanted to write an angsty ANGSTY fic 'bout Sunghoon since December hehe,, also wanted to put Radioheads Let Down instead of Bad Grammar but switched last minute sooo,, both are bangers tho,, feedback and comments are very welcome,, thank yeww for reading :> also @miainthestarsss I SAID I'LL TAG U SO HERE U GO
rise and shine hoes,, I'm alive and honestly I have the biggest urge to write the most gut wrenching, brain burning, feeing like throwing up angsty Sunghoon one shot (without any pairings,, only him) WITHOUT a happy ending,, but I have sm to doooo,,, free my mind tbh
✦ 𝗪𝗔𝗥𝗡𝗜𝗡𝗚𝗦: [smoking / emotional detachment / profanities / self destructive jokes] [This story contains potentially triggering content and is not meant to romanticize or glorify it in any way. Please proceed with care.]
✦ 𝗣𝗟𝗔𝗬𝗟𝗜𝗦𝗧: [Taco Hemingway - Mięso]
✦ 𝗪𝗢𝗥𝗗 𝗖𝗢𝗨𝗡𝗧: [1,723]
✦ 𝗦𝗧𝗔𝗧𝗨𝗦: [complete]
✦ 𝗡𝗢𝗧𝗘𝗦: [mention of having a family / therapy / (unreliable) diagnosis / wrote it based on a song, yet the lyrics did not neccessarily fit but the vibe did so / English is NOT my first language]
It is not like he planned on going into that cafe. He had not. He just passed by and his feet led him there automatically. He really did not plan that. Within a minute he found himself sitting at the table that was near the big window. If you were a passerby you could see the whole cafe from the outside if you decided to take a look through that window. 'Cozy setting' he thought to himself. The single lightbulb casting a small light right onto his table. In the whole cafe there were like twenty more of them though.
And it hit him. 'Why am I even here?' furrowing his brows he took his keys and a pack of cigarettes out. Placing them onto the table he could not mind of letting a frustrated sigh and leaning into the chair while confusingly scanning the whole room he found himself in. Seeing all the people - weirdly happy people - chatting, smiling, gesturing with their hands, as if they were having any kind of oral exam and the teacher asked them suddenly a tricky question, made him oddly uncomfortable. Not to an extent where he could not hold it anymore. Just a normal kind, you could suppose at least.
Rolling his eyes he looked out of the window wondering how could somebody be still smiling when the weather could be compared to aboslutely dog shit. It has been cloudy and rainy all week and today seemed like the worst day. Suddenly single rain droplets appeared on the window. 'Just great.' Taking a cigarette and a lighter out of the box, Sunghoon sighed once again. He promised he would quit. Seemed like not today at least. Positioning the cause of his long term addiction between his lips, he took a look around the room once again. Pacing his eyes among the people, he made eye contact with a child. Literal child. Just a child. Somebodys precious and favourite human being.
The youngster smiled at him, yet he could not care less and roll his eyes away. 'Don't look at me like that.' She used to joke about having a kid with his eyes. His hair and his last name. ''One hell of disaster would that be.'', he told her back then. He would never want to see another version of himself in this world.
Finally lighting the cigarette and taking a drag, he could not help but note that the taste changed. Oddly nothing. No satisfaction. No relief. No comfort. No nothing. Just a cigarette with weird light mint taste.
Fidgeting with the lighter in his left hand, his eyes paced around the room once again. He made eye contact with the child. Again. 'What's his problem?', annoyed that somebody was watching him, Sunghoon tore the eye contact once again. 'Obnoxious little shit.'
Could have been his obnoxious little shit. Yet he was not build for that life - nor was she. Not then, not now, not even in the future.
Licking his lips, he shook off the ashes out of the cigarette. Darting his eyes to the world outside of the cafe. He saw her. Blinking calmly he looked out again. It was her. Her. Her. Her. Her. Her.
Suddenly his head started to hurt and his stomach had an unsettling feeling at the bottom. Yet the time did not stop, nor did the world. Spinning just like before. Spinning just like his head one and half years ago. Just like that time when she told him she wants to leave. She needed to leave. Needed to leave to pursuit the love she deserved, not the one she was getting from him at that time.
She was laughing even though she was soaked in the rain from head to toe. Laughing with somebody else. Somebody that actually made her laugh. Somebody that she did not have to fake her laugh around. Somebody that seemed to make her better. They did. Somebody that is just the right amount of love, respect, understanding, happiness and the right amount of sad for her. She could not handle Sunghoon. Even when she tried, he was too emotionally draining. If he ever showed his emotions in the first place.
He knew that something was wrong with him back then as well that something is wrong with him now, yet he does not see the sense of fixing it. It will fix itself with time. It surely will. It has to.
Just within a moment, seeing her made him feel empty. Nothing. He was not jealous. Heck, of what? Of finding somebody that treated her how she should have been treated? It wasn’t jealousy that coiled in his chest, but something colder — acknowledgment and pure understanding, happiness even. She deserves this. Hell, maybe he did too, in some other timeline where he hadn’t turned his back on her dreams of something bigger, brighter, warmer. And maybe if he hadn't turned his back on his own dreams and health too.
'Great to see her genuinely smile. Suits her.' he thought. He started to shake his head. She is over him. He is over her. They are over. And so are her dreams that included Sunghoon. Her dreams probably contain the person standing just right beside her. The person she's smiling to. The person she really loves.
Sunghoon could never give her what she wanted. Not in this timeline and not in any other. He was just too blind to see, too numb to feel and too hopeless to live. He does not know any of it now either, he is just existing. Yeah, existing is the right word.
The right amount of vowels and consonants. E X S I S T I N G. What a lovely word. If you are existing you are not obliged to commit to anything. Family relations, friends, love, life. You just don't care… about anything in particular.
Sunghoon did not care if he had food in the fridge. He did not care if he smoked or not, or if he even had anything to smoke at all. He did not care if tomorrow he will be kicked out of his apartment, if he even has somewhere to live.
He kinda wished he was in his grave already. Obviously he would not say that out loud - except for those unfunny jokes that whenever the topic were ropes or something similar, he would just say ''Yea, perfect noose for a head.'' Or if the topic would be high buildings, it was natural for him to say that he would just love to try to fly. Just for those goddamn science reasons. Right??
The truth is, he does not know why he suddenly started to feel or think like that. He turned 14 and poof, no reason to live available. It is safe to say that him not talking about any of his very concerning thoughts did not help for his character development.
But it is safe to say that he tried to change or fix whatever was wrong with him when she entered his life. He went to therapy, secretly but he did. Maybe that was one of the reasons for their break up, when she would accuse him of cheating when he did not tell her where he was going for one hour every three days. He did not want to tell her anything that he himself did not know. Or maybe he was just ashamed. Of not being normal. Of not being perfect. Of not being the right amount of love, respect, understanding, happiness and sadness.
Or maybe the real reason for their breakup was his later shortly diagnosed emotional detachment. Towards her, his family, friends, coworkers. He was cold. No empathy. He kept all his sadness and anger inside. He kept his opinions inside. He was very objective. Even when he should've taken sides. The side of his partner. He should have been emotionally available for her when she needed it. He wanted but he did not know how to be vulnerable. Well,, we will never know. (?)
He learned that showing your emotions was showing weakness. He certainly did not want to be seen as weak. He loved her even when he did not feel anything in his chest. The only emotion that he felt physically was fear. And that is how he thought every emotion should feel like. Physically. He did not have any physical pain when he was supposed to feel adoration for her. Back then he convinced himself that he was feeling something. He was hoping it would come with time. It had to come with time.
The only thing that came was fear. Fear of not being able to love her, fear of not being able to feel anything. Anxiety.
Shortly after their breakup, Sunghoon decided that his therapy was going nowhere and it did not help him. He checked out. Told his goodbyes to his therapist that saw that idea as obviously bad. Right before he was about to exit the counselling room, his back then therapist told him their concerns. How he was near the diagnosis of emotional detachment, depression and self destruction. Sunghoon called them money-greedy afterwards and never came back.
He obviously thought of that 'near' diagnosis, and decided to only accept the first one. 'Pure bullshit of a dignosis, I'm not depressed nor self destructive, what the hell.' A lovely mindset of his admitting to only one.
He could not pinpoint when exactly he got startled by a waitress telling him that smoking in a cafe was not allowed. Apparently he stared out of the window for solid 3 minutes causing his cigarette to nearly burn out. And stating the obvious, the smoke and smell alarmed a waitress.
He blinked at the woman working in the cafe and out of the window once again. He did not see her anymore. She vanished into the crowd of people running away from the rain. Then again, he looked at his cigarette or more like ashes piled in a stick, if ever, shaking them off into the ashtray and immediatly putting out the rest of the remaining cigarette.
Suddenly Sunghoon stood on his feet while startling the waitress, hiding his box of cigarettes and keys into his pockets. He left the cafe without a word.
The attendees trickled into the grand hall through enormous silver door. Their chatter merging with the elegant tunes of the live jazz band. As Sunghoon entered, mantaining a fleeting yet purposeful eye contact with one of the security team members. A subtle yet knowing signal passing between them before he melted into the crowd.
Nearby, Heeseung leaned into the ribbon microphone that subtly gave away the theme of the banquet - The 50s. His voice a velvet purr as he crooned the opening lines of the song. Crazy = Genius. The band behind him playing with perfect precision, the music weaving seaminglessly into the glamour of the event.
You can set yourself on fire
You can set yourself on fire
Moments later, the highly anticipated magic show commenced, drawing the hall's attention.
Ni-ki standing on a small stage at the middle of the ballroom, his sharp tuxedo as crisp as the edges of the cards he expertly shuffled between nimble fingers. "My dear guests, it's an honor to finally see you. Glowing as ever. With my deepest respect, I am delighted to be able to perform infront of you tonight." He bowed deeply, his charming grin automatically met with polite applause. His act - billed as the highlight of the evening with the host being blissfully unaware of his ulterior motives, had spared no expense in hiring him.
She said at night in my dreams
You dance on a tightrope of weird
"Ladies and gentlemen, I shall spare no weariness. My first trick is quite the eventful one." Ni-ki called out, silencing the murmurs among the crowd. "I'll need a volunteer. Someone brave, charming… perhaps even a billionaire?"
Across the room, Jake chuckled at the youngers choice of words. Slightly even suprised by the eloquentness of them. Grinning widely as well as drawing the attention of nearby guests, he raised his hand. Dressed in a sleek designer suit, confidence radiating, he spared no hesitation.
Oh but when I wake up you're so normal that you just disappear
"Oh, how convenient," Ni-ki quipped unsincerely. "You have my welcomes, dear sir."
As Jake moved toward the stage, he did not fail to exchange subtle glances with Sunghoon who was busy sipping his champagne while talking to woman who stroke into both of their likings regarding her beauty.
Current favourable outcome is the least one can say. Mingling with the crowd, slipping easily into conversations and leaving no suspicions.. only awe.
You're so straight like commuters with briefcases towing the line
There's no residue of a torturer inside your of eyes
Behind the scenes, the operation was already underway.
Jay moving like a shadow through the service halls, his black suit blending seamlessly into the dimly lit corridors. His earpice buzzed with Jungwon's calm voice, feeding him directions from the van parked discreetly outside.
"The vault is through the next door on your left," Jungwon said.
Pulling a sleek tool from his pocket, Jay worked quickly on the electronic lock.
She said you're just like Mike
Love but you wanna be Brian Wilson, Brian Wilson
"How's our magician, by the way?" he muttered.
"Oh," a snicker escaped Jungwon's lips. "he's doing his job chattery as always, distracting the hell out of them."
"Good to know that at least he does not fully break his character this time," replied Jay while entering the destinated room.
Said you're just like Mike
Love but you'll never be Brian Wilson
Back in the ballroom, Ni-ki was in his element. Jake standing beside him as he whipped out a silk cloth and draped it over his 'volunteer'. The crowd could not help but to watch with anticipation.
And I said (hey ay, ay)
If crazy equals genius (hey ay, ay)
If crazy equals genius
"Now watch closely, my dear guests," Ni-ki intoned. "In the blink of an eye, this young and handsome man will vanish… into thin air!"
With a flourish, he whipped the cloth away. With Jake being gone, the crowd erupted into applause and delighted gasps. What they did not see, was him slipping offstage through a concealed passage, joining Jay near the vault.
Then I'm a fucking arsonist (hey)
I'm a rocket scientist (hey hey)
(Hey ay, ay)
If crazy equals genius (hey)
Meanwhile, Sunoo paced the ballroom gracefully through the crowd, a silver tray of champagne balanced effortlessly on his palm. His smile - disarmingly sweet as he charmed the guests he served. Yet his actions being quick, slipping a jeweled brooch into his pocket here, a gold lighter there. It seemed like a triumphant night for both his team as well as himself. Catering his tastes with different types of expensive belongings. To his suprise, a guest approached him, visibly distressed.
"Excuse me, have you seen my bracelet?" the woman asked, her eyes darting nervously.
"Oh no, madam! Sadly no. Perhaps it fell under the table?" Sunoo answered with wide-eyed concern. Bending down as if to search, he deftly slipped the bracelet onto a waiter's cart passing nearby, just for him to pick it up later. Rising to his feet, offering an apologetic smile: "I'm terribly sorry. I wish I could help some more but I have other tables to tend to. May I find someone else who can assist."
She said darlin' you know
How the wine plays tricks on my tongue
But you don't seem to change when you stuff all of your feelings with drugs
He escorted her to a genuine security guard, explaining, "This madam misplaced her bracelet and she needs help finding it." The guest utterly concerned, followed the guard while Sunoo returned to his role.
Other boys you may have dated serrated your heart with a slice
But the cut of your love never hurts baby, it's a sweet butter knife
Dressed in the uniform of a security guard, she moved with calculated precision. Already rerouted two actual guards away from the ballroom, citing suspicious activity in the kitchen. Now, hovering near the vault's entrance, ready to intercept anyone who might stumble upon Jay and Jake. Sensing no interruption for a while, a curious guard wandered too close for her liking. Stepping into his path with a firm expression.
"You're needed at the west exit. Now."
The guard hestitated but obeyed, leaving the hallway clear.
"Guys, you've got five more minutes." She whispered into her earpiece, "wrap it up. Quickly."
She said you're just like Mike
Love but you wanna be Brian Wilson, Brian Wilson
In the vault, Jay and Jake worked swiftly. The room was an opulent fortress, lined with safety deposit boxes and shelves filled with priceless artifacts. Opening a velvet-line case, Jake exclaimed visibly dissatisfied, "Jeez, looked better in the pictures," revealing rows of glittering jewels that were to more than one's liking.
"Jake, you might as well just shut up. It's not like you're going to wear it." Jungwon replied with a dramatic eye-roll that was obviously not visible to the one he spoke to.
He transferred the treasure into a pouch as Jay secured the door behind them. "Let's go." Jake said, his grin sharp as a blade, knowing that another one of their escapades turned successfully.
Said you're just like Mike
Love but you'll never be Dennis Wilson
The guests still not quite over after the magician's first trick. Yet Ni-ki was already launching his finale.
Sunghoon stepped to the center of the room, raising a glass to draw attention.
"Dear fellow riches, friends and foes, a toast! To our generous host. To our amazing magician as well as the unforgettable evening. But most importantly, a toast to our riches that shall never be gone!" His voice smooth and smile dazzling that could make every woman absolutely stunned.
The guests raised their glasses, toasting along. But as Sunghoon continued, a sublte edge crept into his words.
"Unforgettable indeed," he said, "as magic has a way of… making things disappear."
Before the host could process the comment, the lights went out, plunging the room into the darkness. Gasps and murmurs filled the air, followed by the faint sound of footsteps and the creak of a service door opening.
And I said (hey ay, ay)
If crazy equals genius (hey ay, ay)
If crazy equals genius
When the lights flickered back on moments later, both Ni-ki and Sunghoon were gone, their absence noted by the now silent crowd. The host, sensing something was amiss, hurried to check the vault - only to find it empty.
On the door of the vault, a single playing card was taped: the Ace of Spades, with a note "Thank you for the lovely evening. We'll be sure to treasure the memories - and everything else we took." scrawled across it in elegant handwriting.
Then I'm a fucking arsonist (hey)
I'm a rocket scientist (hey hey)
(Hey ay, ay)
In the speeding van leaving the scene of plain robbery, the team celebrated their success.
"Shame shame. Wish it was silver instead of gold though." Sunoo giggled, tossing the stolen bracelet to Jake.
Jake caught it with a grin, giving it a quick look. “Nice, but I think this thing’s cursed. My grandma had a bracelet just like this, and she always told me it brings bad luck.”
Sunoo raised an eyebrow. “And yet, you’re still holding it. What does that say about you?”
“I like a little danger,” Jake replied, flashing a mischievous smile.
If crazy equals genius (hey)
You can set yourself on fire (hey ay)
But you're never gonna burn, burn, burn (hey ay)
You can set yourself on fire (hey ay)
But you're never gonna learn, learn, learn hey!
Ni-Ki smirked, tossing his top hat onto the dashboard. “I told you the disappearing act would kill. Who knew magic could actually be cool?"
Sunghoon leaned back, grinning smugly. "Who needs some shitty magic tricks when you can be charming as me. Enough to distract the entire ballroom."
Jay snorted from the steering wheel. "Yeah, your charm was so goddamn strong, kinda wished the chandeliers would fall on you."
Sunghoon gave him a knowing smirk. "Jealous very much?"
"Let's be glad it's over now. I think my stomach is fucking eating me from the inside." Added Jungwon, visibly displeased at the feeling of hunger.
Pulling her security cap off and shaking her hair loose, she said as she grinned to the team "Yeah, Jungwon's right. I'm hungry as hell, kinda wished I could throw few more punches though."
As the city lights blurred past the van's windows, the team bursted into laughter, raising their cups in a toast to their flawless execution.
"Now my dear friends, to the perfect crime!" Heeseung cheered, clearly imitating Sunghoon's previous speech.
And as the van sped off into the night, they all agreed, leaving behind nothing but the whispers of their latest heist and the promise of more to come.
You can set yourself on fire (hey)
You can set yourself on fire (hey)
You can set yourself on fire (hey)
You can set yourself on fire
A/N: Suprise suprise,, here's ya christmas gift !!
I need to wash myself again
To hide all the dirt and pain
'Cause I'd be scared
That there's nothing underneath
And who are my real friends?
Have they all got the bends?
Am I really sinking this low?
제이 Jay
Street Spirit (Fade Out) - The Bends - 1995
Cracked eggs, dead birds
Scream as they fight for life
I can feel death, can see its beady eyes
All these things into position
All these things we'll one day swallow whole
And fade out again
And fade out again
Immerse your soul in love
Immerse your soul in love
제이크 Jake
Jigsaw Falling Into Place - In Rainbows - 2007
Before you run away from me
Before you're lost between the notes
The beat goes round and round
The beat goes round and round
I never really got there
I just pretended that I had
Words are blunt instruments
Words are sawed-off shotguns
성훈 Sunghoon
Let Down - OK Computer - 1997
The emptiest of feelings
Disappointed people
Clinging onto bottles
And when it comes it's so so disappointing
Let down and hanging around
Crushed like a bug in the ground
Let down and hanging around
선우 Sunoo
Climbing Up the Walls - OK Computer - 1997
It's always best when the covers up
I am the pick in the ice
Do not cry out or hit the alarm
You know we're friends till we die
And either way you turn
I'll be there
Open up your skull
I'll be there
Climbing up the walls
정원 Jungwon
Optimistic - KID A - 2000
This one's optimistic
This one went to market
This one just came out of the swamp
This one drops a playload
Fodder for the animals
Living on animal farm
You can try the best you can
You can try the best you can
The best you can is good enough
I'd really like to help you, man
I'd really like to help you, man
니키 Ni-Ki
Idioteque - KID A - 2000
Who's in a bunker? Who's in a bunker?
I have seen too much
I haven't seen enough, you haven't seen it
I'll laugh until my head comes off
Women and children first
And children first, and children
We're not scaremongering
This is really happening, happening
We're not scaremongering
This is really happening, happening
Mobiles skwerking, mobiles chirping
Take the money and run
Take our money and run, take our money
A/N: Well,, I had this in my mind for the past few months soo why not,, also I think it would not hurt to do something like that but ENHYPEN as other artists' songs etc.,, something like a series?? If that makes sense,, if you would like to see that, please write down below your suggestions !!
rise and shine hoes,, I'm alive and honestly I have the biggest urge to write the most gut wrenching, brain burning, feeing like throwing up angsty Sunghoon one shot (without any pairings,, only him) WITHOUT a happy ending,, but I have sm to doooo,,, free my mind tbh
i’m in such disbelief right now and beyond disgusted.
i really hope y’all are choosing your morals over kpop; because we do not know these men at all. i will never side with or defend a predator and a criminal, even with little to no proof. even if there is the smallest chance he may be innocent, i will always believe the victim first.
some of you, as fans of the boys for years and him in general, i know you must be feeling disappointed and betrayed. you’re not dumb for previously supporting him, as we couldn’t have possibly known. but now is the time for a reality check and it’s time to wake up and take a step back. this just goes to show that we know absolutely nothing about them.
for sm to just outright put out a statement on their own before any rumors even surfaced and immediately kick him out? this has to be insanely serious and i’m terrified of what he could’ve done. the crazy thing is with everything currently happening in korea with the telegram situation, and korean women constantly being in danger in general because of the men there, i’m not at all surprised that celebrities are being exposed. sm has protected criminals before, and held onto lucas when his scandal came out as well as other artists who have been exposed for similar crimes. i can’t even imagine the severity of the current situation. we’ve seen what happened with the burning sun, and these men are not immune to being misogynistic, vile human beings.
members have already unfollowed him and deleted posts with him in them; his best friend of 17yrs has unfollowed him. the company taking the initiative and him getting kicked out of the group in less than a second before anything even came out, no denying the claims or even trying to defend him. that should be enough to tell you and understand how serious this actually is. i am beyond disgusted with him and this whole situation.
i sincerely hope the victim is doing okay and praying for them to heal and get the justice they deserve. and remember that your love for these celebrities should always be conditional, because we do not know them. it’s their job to put on a show and show you their public persona, but behind closed doors? we don’t know what they’re actually like. we put them on a pedestal and yet we don’t know what they’re really capable of. they are still men after all. i hope the police are taking this seriously. there needs to be consequences and these women need to be protected.
let this be a lesson to all of us. they don’t know us, and we don’t know them, not really.
ALWAYS choose morals over kpop. and as women, we should be standing with the victims.
maybe not all men, but enough of them. and maybe not all men, but somehow always a man. and going forward, i will of course still be supporting nct as a whole. however, keeping the situation in mind, i will be supporting from afar for a little bit. i hope the rest of the members are doing okay, and hopefully no other members were involved, but this today, just shows that they can always surprise us. you never think it’ll be your fave, until it is.
let’s hope this causes a domino effect and more of these people are exposed and charged for what they’re doing.
sending love to anyone who has ever experienced sexual violence or has been targeted and been in a similar situation. it is not your fault and it never was!
love you all and my dms are always open if you need to vent. <3
❗️EDIT: also i wanna add that we need to not praise the rest of the members or any other celebrity for simply unfollowing him on social media. that is the least of anyone’s worries.
we don’t know if they were aware, we don’t know if they knew and were protecting him or turning a blind eye. it could be them trying to save themselves and clear their guilty conscience. maybe they didn’t know and are just as shocked as we are, we don’t know that either.
we blindly trust these people and believe they have good intentions but look at where that can lead to. fans being upset is valid, yes; but remember people with money and power will do whatever it takes to sweep things under the rug and make it go away in order to save face and keep their image and reputation.
haven’t seen lots of awareness brought to this in enhablr yet but i really wish all engenes could also post about & talk about the mistreatment they’re getting from belift. the way they haven’t had not even five days of rest the past two years is so concerning. the way the members’ healths are getting worse is so terrifying. they’re all so horrendously overworked and exhausted. we all saw jay’s injury and how they STILL made him perform despite the fact that his knee was injured. and now he’s on a hiatus that probably won’t even last that long considering how greedy their company is.
jake had to sit out from two different stages in their most recent concert and couldn’t even open his eyes when he was present for the other stages. heeseung can’t even properly perform with how overworked and exhausted he is. riki even spoke out about fainting in his weverse (whether it was a mistranslation or joke or not) this is all so terrifying. it’s so concerning because every engene knows how much enha love music & how much they love performing and having concerts for their fans.
their schedules for the past two years have literally been inhumane. comeback after comeback. tour after tour. event after event. concert after concert. belift is treating the members like they’re literal robots and the only people that can actually stop this is engenes themselves the longer you demand for a rest for the boys for no more comebacks and even boycott the higher of a chance enha will have a BREAK.
so please as an engene SPEAK OUT. repost reblog on here on every platform retweet on X share posts on tumblr use hashtags do whatever you can in your power for enha because it’s so clear they don’t have anyone else but us engenes when their own company is treating them like this.
mind you. they’re planning on making enhypen have another comeback at the final quarter of this year. AGAIN.
LET ENHYPEN REST ‼️
tagging a few moots: @intromortal @heeslomll @ak4e7a @enha-stars @venomhee @sjyfave @alvojake @hollyoongs @yzzyhee @ja3yun @jaylaxies @hoondrop @fakeuwus
a/n. aaa my hoon (∩˃o˂∩)♡ enjoy<3 this might be another self callout post idk!! and i see ur reqs!! jaeyun may or may not be released next ^^
୨୧₊˚⊹ᡣ𐭩⋆ ──
sunghoon is for those who are fascinated by snow. particularly in the way that it falls so delicately and blankets everything in a shimmery white.
sunghoon is for those who become hush during outings because they forget that everyone else can’t hear their stream of consciousness.
sunghoon is for those seek solace in song lyrics that hit too close to home, almost repeating them like mantras (tell me about your niche playlists!!).
sunghoon is for those are loud and hyper around their closest friends because there’s no need to maintain the rigid image they have curated for themselves.
sunghoon is for those who are highly ambitious, often discouraged when they aren’t immediately skilled at something (how could you be perfect on the first try? you’ll get more chances as long as you allow yourself them ^^).
sunghoon is for those who are often reminded to raise their voices because they speak too softly (who made you feel so small?).
sunghoon is for those who find it difficult to communicate their struggles, resorting to internalizing to them instead.
sunghoon is for those who should worry much less about what others think of them because their perception of you is not your responsibility.
✦ 𝗪𝗔𝗥𝗡𝗜𝗡𝗚𝗦: [murder / (quite) explicit gore / nail\teeth pulling / poisoning / strangling /hands\throat slashing / stalking / threathening / putting dead rats at one's door / manipulation / vomiting / kidnapping / mention of attempted suicide / mental breakdown / profanities] [This story contains potentially triggering content and is not meant to romanticize or glorify it in any way. Please proceed with care.]
✦ 𝗣𝗟𝗔𝗬𝗟𝗜𝗦𝗧: [Jazmin Bean - Yandere / Elita - Sour Switchblade / Madds Bucey - The Red Means I Love You / Melanie Martinez - Pacify Her / Carolesdaughter - Violent / Allie X - Bitch / Royal & The Serpent - Warn You]
✦ 𝗪𝗢𝗥𝗗 𝗖𝗢𝗨𝗡𝗧: [7,159]
✦ 𝗦𝗧𝗔𝗧𝗨𝗦: [complete]
✦ 𝗡𝗢𝗧𝗘𝗦: [written in 3rd person / English is NOT my first language / entertainment purposes only]
The university campus buzzed with the lively chatter of students, a symphony of voices blending into the backdrop of rustling leaves and distant traffic. The summer break had been anything but enjoyable for her. Having to move out once again was tiring, yet she knew it was for the good. For her own good.
She navigated the crowd with practiced ease, her gaze flitting from face to face, searching for something—or rather, someone.
It happened in an instant. Amid the sea of faces, she saw him. He stood by the fountain, laughing with a group of friends. His smile was bright, his eyes crinkling at the corners, radiating a warmth that seemed to draw everyone in. Hearing his name from one of his friends' lips nearly made her catch her breath in her throat. "Park Sunghoon!" She knew her old habits would resurface sooner rather than later, but she didn't expect them to be this soon.
There was something magnetic about him, something that set her pulse racing. She had seen many attractive people before, but he was different. His very presence seemed to light up the space around him, making everyone else fade into the background.
She felt a jolt of excitement, a spark of something dark and powerful. This was the feeling she had hoped to bury when moving out. But deep down, she had been waiting for it. The certainty that he was the one. He's next.
A smile curled at the corners of her lips, subtle yet sinister. She watched him intently, her mind already weaving plans and strategies. His every movement, every laugh, every interaction was like a thread she could pull, unraveling the life he knew and reweaving it around her.
He seemed perfect—friendly, trusting, and utterly oblivious to the danger that had just marked him. She could already see how easy it would be to insert herself into his world, to become indispensable to him, to isolate him from anyone who might come between them.
As the bell rang, signaling the start of class, she didn’t move. She continued to watch him, her smile growing more pronounced, her eyes narrowing with determination. This was no ordinary attraction; this was an obsession being born, a single-minded focus that would drive her every action. And she knew that.
She would have him. Completely. Utterly. And no one, absolutely no one, would stand in her way.
It started innocently, with subtle glances during the breaks and passing encounters in the university hallways. She never made herself present to him, not yet at least. Old habits die hard, however; she still managed to get to know his entire schedule—from morning lessons and subtle meetings with his friends at the nearby café, to those football matches that always began at 5:30 p.m. Some might think she had gone completely mad, but little did they know she had been like this since 9th grade.
After some time, she started to get bolder. Maintaining short eye contact, leaving cheesy love letters with his favorite tiramisu-flavored chocolate in his locker. She wanted to keep it normal. She tried to tell herself that this was who she really was. She wasn't the psycho she was back then. She was different now. Yet, in her heart, she knew she couldn’t be normal, even if she wanted to. Even if she tried.
She saw his reaction every single time. The first time he looked surprised as he saw a love letter in his locker. He kept it. It gave her a little bit of hope that she didn't have to revert to her old, scary habits. She even wrote her number there, hoping he would reach out, purposely avoiding mentioning her name. Unfortunately, by the end of the day, he did not.
She persevered. She kept writing those goddamn love letters and buying that goddamn tiramisu-flavored chocolate. Letter after letter. Every time the same reaction, but the annoyance in his face growing with each of them.
When the number of written letters reached fifty, she decided to confront him. She found him in the library, secluded in a corner with a stack of books. Heart pounding, she approached, her footsteps silent on the carpeted floor. “Sunghoon,” she said softly, yet firmly. He looked up, startled. “Why haven’t you responded to my letters?” Tilting her head slightly, boring her dead eyes into him with a slight glimpse of hurt. She wasn't smiling. She was dead serious. She wanted to know why he hadn't reached out, why he ignored her, why he rejected her.
"Oh, you wrote those letters?" Sunghoon shifted uncomfortably in his seat, clearly caught off guard. He closed the book he was reading and looked up at her with a gentle, apologetic smile. “I’m really sorry,” he began, choosing his words carefully. “I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings by not responding.” He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “The truth is, I’m not really interested in having a love life right now. I’ve been trying to focus on my studies and my future. There’s just so much going on, and I don’t think I can give anyone the attention they deserve.”
Seeing the slight tremor in her expression, he quickly added, “But I really appreciate the effort you’ve put into the letters. And the tiramisu chocolates were amazing—they’re my favorite, and it was very thoughtful of you.”
Her heart sank at his words, but she masked her disappointment with a tight, controlled smile. "I see," she said, her voice steady but laced with a barely perceptible edge. "You want to focus on your studies. That's understandable." She took a small step back, smiling forcefully. "I'm glad you liked the tiramisu chocolates, though," she added, her tone softening just a bit. "It’s nice to know at least something I did made you happy." A shadow flickered in her eyes, but she quickly blinked it away, maintaining her composed demeanor.
"I suppose I'll stop bothering you with my letters, then," she continued, the words sharp despite her calm delivery. "Good luck with your studies, Sunghoon."
Without waiting for a response, she turned on her heel and walked away, her back straight, leaving Sunghoon with a sense of unease. As she exited the library, that forced smile dropped, and her mind raced with new strategies, the sting of rejection only fueling her determination further.
Walking home from the library in a daze, Sunghoon's words replayed in her mind. "I'm sorry, but I'm just not interested. I need to focus on my studies right now." The rejection cut through her like a knife, every word a fresh wound. Her heart pounded in her chest, a mix of rage and despair building with each step she took.
As she reached her apartment, the door barely closed behind her before the dam broke. She collapsed onto the floor, her body wracked with sobs. The tears came fast and hard, streaming down her face as she clutched her chest, gasping for breath.
"Why? Why doesn’t he see?" she choked out between sobs. "I'm the only one who truly loves him. I'm the only one who understands him."
Her cries echoed through the empty house, a haunting symphony of pain and madness. She staggered to her feet, stumbling towards the bathroom. In the mirror, her tear-streaked face stared back at her, eyes wide with a wild, unhinged gleam. She laughed, a high-pitched, manic sound that contrasted sharply with her sobs. The laughter grew louder, more hysterical, mingling with her tears until it was impossible to tell where one ended and the other began.
She grabbed the edges of the sink, her knuckles white as she leaned forward, her reflection distorting in the mirror. "Focusing on the future, my ass," she muttered to herself, the laughter dying in her throat. "The only future that he has is me. He just doesn’t understand yet."
Her mind raced, a whirlwind of chaotic thoughts and dark plans. The rejection had shattered something inside her, leaving a void that only her obsessive love could fill. She stumbled back into the living room, knocking over a lamp as she went. The crash barely registered as she fell to her knees, clutching her head, the pain of rejection fueling her madness.
Her breathing slowed, and a cold, calculating calm settled over her. "I’ll make him see," she whispered, her voice low and steady. "I’ll make him understand that he belongs with me. And if anyone tries to get in my way…"
Her eyes hardened, the wild gleam replaced by a steely determination. She knew what she had to do. The madness was no longer a burden but a driving force, propelling her towards her goal. She wiped her tears away, a twisted smile curling together with a chuckle on her lips.
"Sunghoon will be mine," she vowed, her voice filled with a chilling certainty. "No matter what it takes."
The sun was just beginning to set, casting a warm golden glow over the university campus. Her heart racing with anticipation, she clutched her books tightly as she made her way to the student lounge. Today was the day she would get to know Sunghoon’s friends better. She had spent weeks observing them from a distance, learning their names, their habits, and their schedules and, most importantly, their secrets.
Heeseung's mental health was at its lowest due to his parents' divorce and his unrequited love for one of the most popular students. Jay's family financial struggles and his hidden talent were secrets she had uncovered. Wonyoung was under immense pressure from her parents, yet she kept up her best girl facade while hiding her chronic illness. She knew it all. And she certainly knew how to put that knowledge to use. It was all part of her meticulous plan to get closer to Sunghoon.
As she entered the bustling lounge, she scanned the room until her eyes landed on the familiar group gathered around a table near the window. Sunghoon sat at the center, laughing at something one of his friends had said. She took a deep breath, putting on her most charming smile, and approached the group with a casual confidence.
“Hey, do you mind if I join you?” she asked, her voice sweet and friendly. The group looked up, slightly surprised by the unexpected visitor. Sunghoon, being surprised to see her, smiled warmly, yet still had their conversation from the library in mind.
“Sure, have a seat,” he said, gesturing to an empty chair. She slid into the seat, her heart fluttering as she found herself sitting next to Sunghoon. His friends, a mix of curious and welcoming faces, introduced themselves one by one.
“I’ve seen you around,” said Heeseung, a tall guy with a friendly grin. “You’re in our literature class, right?”
She nodded, her smile never faltering. “Yeah, I’ve been meaning to get to know everyone better. It’s nice to finally put names to faces.”
As the conversation flowed, she skillfully engaged each of Sunghoon’s friends, asking questions and showing genuine interest in their lives. She laughed at their jokes, shared her own stories,
and slowly but surely, integrated herself into the group. Every now and then, she would steal glances at Sunghoon, noting how relaxed and happy he seemed with his friends.
“I love your nails, by the way. The color really suits you,” said Wonyoung, the girl who often partnered with Sunghoon in projects. “I'd love to do them for you one day.”
Her eyes lit up at the suggestion, a flicker of arousal flaring within her. “I’d love that. Maybe we could hang out at my place someday, who knows?”
The girl seemed to warm to her recommendation, discussing potential plans for a weekend nail session. She nodded along, her mind already calculating how she could use these moments to
deepen her bond with Sunghoon and subtly influence the group dynamics.
As the evening wore on, she felt a sense of triumph. She had successfully ingratiated herself into Sunghoon’s social circle, her plan unfolding perfectly. By the time they all said their goodbyes, she felt a new sense of belonging and a step closer to her ultimate goal.
Walking back to her house, she couldn’t help but smile. Getting to know Sunghoon’s friends was just the beginning. Soon, Sunghoon would see that she was the perfect addition to his life, the one who truly understood him. And no one, absolutely no one, would stand in her way.
As the weekend arrived, Wonyoung was already at her door, all ready and excited for the planned nail session. Before she could even ring the bell, the door suddenly swung open, revealing the owner of the house.
"Oh, hi. Please, come in." She felt as if the excitement was ready to explode within her, yet she was not letting her facade slip.
As they entered the meticulously decorated living room, her smile never faltered, masking her true intentions. “Make yourself comfortable,” she said warmly, gesturing to a plush armchair.
Wonyoung sat down, glancing around at the tasteful décor. “I’ve been working on a new hobby,” she continued, pulling out a sleek, black box. “Let me show you my collection.”
She opened the box, revealing an array of perfectly painted nails, displayed like trophies. The girl admired them at first, her eyes widening in admiration. “Wow, these are amazing! You’re really talented,” she said, completely unaware of the truth. She smiled, a hint of something sinister lurking behind her eyes. “Oh, thank you! Those are some of my favorites.”
Wonyoung continued to admire the collection, completely unaware of the dark truth behind them. “How do you get them to look so real?” “Well,” she began, her voice taking on a playful, almost teasing tone. “That’s because they are real.” Wonyoung laughed, thinking it was a joke. “You’re so funny!”
But her smile only widened. She reached for a small, ornate box on the shelf and opened it, revealing an assortment of perfectly preserved nails. “No, seriously. These are real ” Wonyoung’s laughter faltered as she looked more closely at the nails. “Wait, what?”
Picking up one of the nails, she held it delicately between her fingers. “These nails used to belong to some very… unfortunate girls. Girls who thought they could get too close to someone very dear to me.”
Wonyoung’s eyes widened in horror as the realization sank in. She took a step back, her mind racing. “You’re joking, right? This is some kind of sick joke.”
Shaking her head slowly, her smile never wavering. “Oh, Wonyoung, I’m very serious. You see, I take my collection quite seriously. And I’m always looking to add more… unique pieces.” She placed the nail back in the box and closed it with a snap, the sound echoing ominously in the room. Wonyoung’s hands trembled as she tried to process what she had just heard.
“But don’t you worry,” she continued, her tone now sickeningly sweet. “As long as you stay out of Sunghoon’s business, you’ll have nothing to fear.” Wonyoung nodded frantically, her face pale. “Y-yeah, of course. I-I won’t say anything.”
“Good,” she said, her smile returning to a more innocent facade. “Now, how about we paint your nails? I promise it’ll be fun.” As Wonyoung sat down, trying to steady her shaking hands, she selected a bright, cheerful color from her collection. The juxtaposition of the lighthearted activity and the dark secret hanging over them created a chilling tension in the room.
Her blood ran cold, and she tried to stand up, but her grip was suddenly iron-strong. “You're here because you're Sunghoon's friend,” she said, her voice eerily calm. “And that’s a problem.”
Before the girl could react, she produced a pair of nail clippers, her smile never wavering. She held Wonyoung’s hand firmly, isolating her pointing finger. The girl struggled, but the grip was unyielding, the other hand trying to escape from her strong hold.
The sharp snip of the clippers echoed in the room, followed by the girl’s muffled cry. She carefully placed the newly clipped nail into her box, closing it again with a satisfied click. She released the girl, who bolted from the chair, clutching her bleeding finger.
“Remember this next time you think about talking to him, or you'll sniff the daisies from underneath sooner than you would have thought,” she said softly, watching with cold satisfaction as the girl fled in terror.
She could not pinpoint how she happened to be currently in her own kitchen. At 2:18 a.m. Her mind was a whirlwind of dark thoughts as she stood in the dim light, the only sound being the gentle hum of the refrigerator. Meticulously mixing the batter, her thoughts singularly focused on Minji, the girl who dared to call Sunghoon 'Hoonie' with such familiarity. It was a nickname that should only be hers to use, and the thought of Minji’s casual affection made her blood boil. Her movements were precise, almost methodical.
As she measured out the ingredients, each step bringing her closer to her goal.
She reached into her pocket and pulled out a small vial of poison, its contents undetectable and deadly. With a practiced hand, she added a few drops into the batter, ensuring it blended seamlessly. The poison would be subtle, taking hours to take effect, giving no hint of its presence until it was too late.
The next day, during their study group, she brought a tray of freshly baked cupcakes, their sweet aroma filling the room. With a practiced smile, she approached the girl. “I baked these last night,” she said, her voice dripping with false warmth. “I know how much you love sweets, so I saved the best one just for you.”
Minji’s eyes lit up, grateful and unsuspecting. “Thank you! That’s so sweet of you,” she replied, taking the cupcake eagerly. She bit into it without a second thought, savoring the taste. Watching, her smile never wavering, as Minji enjoyed the treat. The study group continued as usual, with everyone focusing on their assignments and discussing their topics. Hours passed, and as the session came to an end, Minji began to feel the first signs of the poison taking effect. She winced, her hand clutching her stomach, but brushed it off as a
mere stomachache.
Later that night, as Minji lay in bed, the pain intensified. The subtle poison worked its way through her system, causing excruciating pain. She gasped for breath, her body wracked with agony. Within hours, the poison claimed its victim, leaving Minji lifeless and cold. The lethal gift did its work.
The next day, news of Minji’s sudden and tragic death spread through the campus like wildfire. She could hear the whispers and saw the shocked faces of her peers. She wore a mask of concern, her eyes wide with faux sympathy. Inside, however, she felt a twisted sense of satisfaction, a smirk threatening to break through her facade.
“That’s terrible,” she said to a classmate, her voice laced with carefully crafted sorrow. “I can’t believe something like this happened.”
As the conversations around her continued, she maintained her act, but deep inside, she reveled in her success. Minji was no longer a threat.
She had been shadowing Sunghoon and his friends for weeks, blending into their group with ease. Today, she sat at their usual table in the bustling cafeteria, watching as Sunghoon chatted with Heeseung, Jay, and Wonyoung. Her heart pounded when a new figure approached the table: Joon, a charismatic student known for throwing the best parties.
“Hey, Sunghoon!” Joon called out, his voice brimming with excitement. “I’m throwing a party after the exams. You should totally come. It’s gonna be epic!”
Sunghoon looked up, a hint of hesitation in his eyes. “I don’t know, Joon. I’ve got a lot of studying to do even afterwards.”
Joon waved his hand dismissively while winking in Wonyoung's direction. “Come on, man! You can’t study all the time. It’ll be good to unwind. Plus, everyone’s going to be there.”
Clenching her jaw, her mind racing. This party was a threat, a potential distraction that could pull Sunghoon further away from her. Forcing a smile, she interjected, “A party sounds fun, but don’t you think it’s important to stay focused on your studies, Sunghoon?”
Joon laughed. “Lighten up! It’s just one night.”
Sunghoon finally nodded, though reluctantly. “Alright, I’ll try to make it.”
Her smile faltered, but she quickly recovered. There was no way of letting this new social connection ruin her plans.
She had been watching Joon for days, observing his every move. He who dared to invite Sunghoon to a party was an unequivocal threat to widen his social circle and pull him further away from her. Over several days, she slipped threatening notes and disturbing, gory images into his locker. Each message was more terrifying than the last, escalating his fear and paranoia.
“Stay away from Sunghoon, or you’ll regret it,” one note read, accompanied by a photo of a mutilated teddy bear.
His once confident demeanor crumbled. Dark circles formed under his eyes as he lost sleep. His grades slipped, the terror consuming his thoughts. She watched with satisfaction as he became a shadow of his former self.
One night, as he walked home from another party, his steps were slow and weary. She followed silently, her movements careful and calculated. The streets were empty, the only sounds were the distant hum of traffic and the occasional rustle of leaves. She stayed in the shadows, her eyes fixed on her prey.
When he turned into a dark alley, she made her move. In one swift motion, she wrapped a garrote wire around his throat, pulling it tight. His eyes bulged in shock, his hands clawing at the wire, trying to scream but only managing a strangled gasp. The struggle was brief and silent, the wire cutting deep and fast, severing his cries and his life.
His lifeless body dropped to the ground, a pool of blood forming beneath him. She stood over him for a moment, watching the life fade from his eyes. The thrill of control and power coursed through her veins, a dark satisfaction settling in her chest. She wiped the wire clean and slipped it back into her pocket, leaving the scene as silently as she had arrived, smiling proudly.
The next day, the campus buzzed with the news of the boy’s tragic and mysterious death. She mingled once again with the concerned and the curious, her face a mask of shock and sadness.
Inside, she felt a twisted sense of triumph. One less distraction for Sunghoon, one step closer to securing him for herself.
She had always been meticulous in her surveillance of Sunghoon. Her obsession with him had led her to follow him discreetly, ensuring she was never far from his side. One evening, she decided to trail him after he left the university, curious about his destination.
As she followed him through the bustling streets, her heart pounded with a mix of excitement and anxiety. Sunghoon turned into a small cinema, a place she hadn’t expected. She bought a ticket and followed him inside, maintaining a safe distance. Her eyes widened in shock and fury when she saw him with a girl from another university, their hands intertwined. They were laughing and seemed entirely engrossed in each other.
Her mind raced with thoughts of betrayal and rage. Who was this girl? How dare she come between her and Sunghoon? She gritted her teeth, her hands clenching into fists. As they left the cinema, she snapped a few photos of them together, her mind already forming a plan to eliminate this new threat.
The basement was cold and dimly lit, every corner meticulously organized to ensure no sound escaped. There she stood in the center, a chilling smile playing on her lips as she looked at the bound and gagged girl in front of her. Sunghoon’s alleged girlfriend, now nothing more than a terrified captive, was tied to a heavy wooden chair, her eyes wide with fear.
“I warned you,” she began, her voice soft and deceptively kind. “I warned you to stay away from Sunghoon.” She picked up a pair of pliers from the metal tray beside her, the dim lightglinting off the sharp metal. "But apparently, threatening letters and dead rats at your door do not bother you."
The girl’s sobs grew louder, her pleas muffled by the gag. The girl struggled futilely against her bonds as she approached, pliers in hand. “Sadly, you didn’t listen,” she continued, a hint of mockery in her tone. “Now, you’re going to pay the price.”
With brutal efficiency, she gripped the girl’s jaw, forcing her mouth open. The girl’s screams were stifled by the gag, her eyes rolling back in agony as the first tooth was ripped out. Blood poured from her mouth, splattering onto the floor. One by one, the teeth were extracted, each accompanied by a fresh wave of pain and muffled screams. She hummed a cheerful tune as she worked, placing each bloodied tooth carefully into a small jar. When she was done, she stepped back, admiring her handiwork. The girl’s mouth was a bloody ruin, her sobs now reduced to weak, incoherent moans.
“Look at you,” she said, holding up the jar of teeth. “Such a pretty collection. I think I’ll make something special out of these. Maybe a ring? Or a necklace? Sunghoon always had a taste in unique jewelry.” She set the jar aside and leaned in close, her face inches from the girl’s. “You should’ve stayed out of Sunghoon’s business,” she hissed. “You should’ve known better than to try and take him from me.”
The girl’s eyes were filled with a mix of terror and confusion, her pleas unintelligible. Only laughing, a cold, mirthless sound. “Help me! Help me! No one can hear you,” she mocked. “No one is coming to save you.”
Growing tired of the girl’s incomprehensible cries, she grabbed a large butcher knife from the tray. With one swift motion, she severed the girl’s hand at the wrist. Blood gushed from the wound, and the girl’s screams reached a new, agonizing pitch. “Gosh, stop whining like a bitch and take it!” she snapped, covering her ears. The girl’s continued screams grated on her nerves, driving her to the edge of her patience. Finally, in a fit of frustration, she slashed the girl’s throat. The screams stopped abruptly, replaced by a gurgling sound as blood poured from the fatal wound.
She stood back, watching the life drain from the girl’s eyes. Once she was certain the girl was dead, she set to work with a grim determination. The body was dragged to a large vat of acid she had prepared earlier. She pushed the body into the vat, watching as the flesh began to dissolve, the room filling with the acrid smell of burning skin.
While the acid did its work, she carefully cleaned and dried the severed hands, removing every trace of blood. She placed them in a transparent box, admiring the grotesque display. As she closed the lid on the box, she couldn’t help but smile. Everything was falling into place. Sunghoon would be hers, and no one would stand in her way.
Ascending the basement stairs, her steps slow and methodical. She had cleaned up everything meticulously, ensuring no trace of her gruesome act remained—except for the vat of acid, its contents now dissolving away any evidence. As she emerged from the basement, a wave of nausea suddenly overwhelmed her.
Staggering towards the bathroom, she could feel the bile rising in her throat. She barely made it to the sink before she began to vomit, her body convulsing with each heave. The acidic taste of bile burned her throat, tears streaming down her face as she purged the contents of her stomach.
When the retching finally subsided, she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, her breathing ragged. She glanced up at the mirror above the sink, her reflection barely recognizable behind her disheveled bangs. Her eyes, wide and wild, stared back at her. Slowly, a hysterical laugh bubbled up from within her, mingling with her tears.
Her laugh grew louder, more unhinged, as she gazed at her reflection. Tears of anguish and frustration streamed down her cheeks, but she couldn’t stop laughing. The sound echoed off the bathroom walls, a chilling mix of mirth and madness.
Without warning, she drew back her fist and smashed it into the mirror. The glass shattered, shards flying in all directions, some embedding in her knuckles. Blood mingled with the tears on her face as she stood there, panting and trembling.
The remnants of the mirror reflected her fractured image. She stared at the jagged pieces for a moment, her breathing shallow and erratic. Then, her legs gave out, and she collapsed onto the bathroom floor, her body racked with sobs.
She lay there, the cold tiles pressing against her skin, her mind a chaotic storm of emotions. The reality of her actions crashed over her, the weight of her obsession and the depths of her madness suffocating her. But even in her despair, a dark satisfaction lingered. Sunghoon was one step closer to being hers, and no one else would ever come between them again.
Lying on the floor, her vision began to blur. She closed her eyes, tears still streaming down her face. Slowly, she began to mouth the lyrics of one of her favorite songs. Her voice was barely a whisper, but the words held a twisted kind of comfort for her.
"This may become a little brutal if I'm honest," she mouthed, her lips forming the words with deliberate care. Her voice was shaky, filled with both desperation and determination. "But it's any- anything for you my dear, I promise."
The words echoed in her mind, a haunting lullaby that mirrored her descent into madness. As the last line left her lips, her strength gave out completely. Her consciousness slipped away, leaving her lying on the cold bathroom floor, surrounded by broken glass and blood.
The house was silent except for the faint hum of distant traffic. In the dim light, her body lay still, a testament to the lengths she would go for her obsession. The darkness enveloped her, a temporary reprieve from the chaos within.
The night was thick with foreboding as Wonyoung finally gathered the courage to approach Sunghoon, her voice trembling with the weight of the secrets she carried. They were alone in a secluded corner of the campus, the moon casting a pale light over the deserted grounds.
“Sunghoon, we need to talk. You have to know the truth,” Wonyoung said, her eyes wide with urgency. Sunghoon looked at her, concern etched across his face. "What's wrong, Wonyoung?"
"It's about her. The new strange girl," Wonyoung began, her eyes darting around as if she feared being overheard. "I went to her house. She invited me to paint my nails, but… Sunghoon, she showed me her collection of painted nails. They were real, from girls she saw as a threat. Her house is full of evidence. She's dangerous!"
Sunghoon stared at her, his face a canvas of shock and disbelief. “Wonyoung, what are you saying? Are you sure?”
“Yes, I’m sure,” Wonyoung replied, her voice cracking. “She did this. She ripped off my nail." Saying that, the girl shows Sunghoon her bandaged pointer finger. Tears filling her eyes.
"I barely got away. I think she's the one behind all the murders. You have to believe me. Please.”
Lurking nearby, she overheard every single word. "I couldn't help but overhear," she continued, her voice dangerously soft. "You seem to have some serious accusations against me, Wony~."
Sunghoon and Wonyoung turned to face her, both startled.
A sinister smile curled on her lips as she stepped into the light, her presence as chilling as the night itself. “It’s funny,” she said, her voice smooth as silk, “hearing you two talk like this. I had no idea you were so concerned about my little secrets.”
Wonyoung's face turned white. "Stay away from us."
Her eyes glinted with malice as she approached them, her steps measured and deliberate. “You’ve got it all wrong,” she continued, her tone mocking. “I have nothing to hide. In fact, why don’t you come with me? Let’s have a little chat at my place. It’s a bit of a mess, but I’m sure you’ll find it quite… revealing.”
Wonyoung hesitated, her suspicion palpable. “Why would we go to your house? You could be lying.”
Sunghoon, desperate to make sense of everything, placed a reassuring hand on Wonyoung’s shoulder. “Wony, those accusations are severe. We need to see it for ourselves. I have to know the truth.”
Wonyoung grabbed his arm. "No, Sunghoon, it's a trap!"
Yet Sunghoon reassured her, his determination unshaken. "I have to do this, Wonyoung."
Reluctantly, Wonyoung nodded, as she cannot leave her friend alone, and together they followed to her house, each step echoing with foreboding silence. Inside, the house was eerily quiet, the atmosphere heavy with tension. She led them to the living room, her smile still unsettlingly calm.
“Would you like some water?” she asked, her voice dripping with false sweetness. “It’s been a long night.”
Wonyoung eyed the glass of water suspiciously. “No, thank you. I’ll pass.”
Sunghoon, however, nodded. “I’ll have some.”
With a sardonic grin, she handed Sunghoon the glass. “To your health,” she said, her eyes sparkling with malice. “I promise, there’s nothing in it.”
As Sunghoon drank, Wonyoung’s gaze remained fixed on her, mind racing with doubt. “Sunghoon, be careful,” she whispered, but her words were drowned out by the sound of the glass clinking against Sunghoon’s lips.
Minutes later, Sunghoon’s eyes fluttered shut, the dissolved sleeping pill taking effect. Wonyoung watched in horror as he slumped forward, the glass slipping from his fingers and shattering on the floor. Before the girl could react, she felt a sharp sense of pain. Directly after, she crumpled, unconsciously to the floor.
“Come on, Wony. It’s time to play,” she said with a sinister smile, her voice dripping with malice. “Let’s see how much Sunghoon really cares about you.”
The basement door creaked open, revealing a room shrouded in darkness. Leading Wonyoung down the stairs, the air growing colder with each step. At the bottom, the dim light revealed a scene of horror—chains hanging from the wall and a heavy chair on the opposing side.
When they woke up, Wonyoung found herself chained to the wall by her hands and legs, while Sunghoon was tied to a heavy chair in front of her. Panic surged through them as they realized their predicament.
Wonyoung struggled against her bonds, fear and confusion flooding her senses. “Sunghoon! Wake up! We have to get out of here!”
She stood before them, her eyes gleaming with twisted delight. "Welcome to my game room," she said. "Tonight, we'll play a little game."
Her laugh echoed through the room, chilling and triumphant. “Oh, don’t worry, Wonyoung. You’re going to be a part of it as well, of course."
She picked up a set of knives, twirling one in her hand. "Sunghoon, your task is simple. You have three tries to hit Wonyoung in the head with these knives. If you succeed, I will admit to everything and set you free." She paused, a cruel smile curling her lips. "If you fail, you might as well never see the light of day. Same goes to your friends and family. It's quite simple, really."
Sunghoon, bound to the heavy chair, shook his head in disbelief. “Please, don’t do this. I’ll do anything, just don’t make me hurt Wonyoung.”
Her eyes burned with cold resolve. “You don’t have a choice, Sunghoon. You must play. Now, shall we begin.”
She handed Sunghoon a knife, its blade gleaming ominously in the dim light. Sunghoon’s hands trembled as he took it, his mind reeling with fear and desperation. Missing on purpose, the knife embedding itself harmlessly in the wall. Wonyoung's pleas for him to hit her filled the room, her voice desperate and tearful.
“Do it, Sunghoon! For all our sakes, do it!” Wonyoung shouted, her voice breaking.
Sunghoon closed his eyes, the knife in his hand feeling like lead. He threw for the second time, but it missed, clattering harmlessly to the floor. “I can’t do it,” he muttered, his voice breaking. “I can’t hurt you, Wonyoung. I can’t.”
He couldn’t bring himself to do it. With each throw, he missed, refusing to harm his friend. Her smile widening with each miss.
Her smile faded, replaced by a fake expression of disappointment. “Seems like you’re not as perfect as I made you out to be,” she hissed. “Well, you’ve failed. And we do play fair here. Wonyoung, being your friend, makes her my first win.”
Wonyoung’s screams pierced the air as she lunged forward with a knife. The blade sank into her chest, the sound of her agony echoing through the basement. Sunghoon’s heart shattered, his screams mingling with Wonyoung’s, the room turning into a scene of unspeakable horror.
As Wonyoung’s life ebbed away, she sat on Sunghoon’s lap, her knife still in hand.
As she gazed at Sunghoon, her lips slowly curled into a smile that could freeze the blood in your veins. It started innocently enough, a slight upturn at the corners of her mouth. But then, it spread wider, unnaturally so, stretching across her face like a mask. Her eyes, once filled with feigned warmth, now glinted with a dangerous intensity, pupils dilating as if she were a predator honing in on her prey.
The smile revealed perfectly straight teeth, each one gleaming with a chilling, predatory sheen. Her upper lip lifted just enough to expose a hint of gum, adding an unsettling, almost feral quality to her expression. It was a smile that promised not joy or kindness, but a twisted satisfaction, as if she were savoring some private, malevolent joke.
Her head tilted slightly to one side. The contrast between the sweet, almost childish tilt and the dark promise behind her grin was jarring, creating a dissonance that sent shivers down the spine of anyone who saw it. It was a smile that hinted at hidden depths of obsession and a readiness to do anything—absolutely anything—to keep Sunghoon for herself.
This was no ordinary smile; it was a harbinger of the lengths she would go to, the boundaries she would cross. It was the kind of smile that made you realize, too late, that you were already ensnared in her web.
“Mmm, look at you,” she whispered, her voice a dangerous purr. “You’re pathetic, Sunghoon. You let her die because you couldn’t do what was necessary. You’re not the hero you thought you were.”
Sunghoon’s eyes burned with hatred and disgust. “I hate you,” he spat, his voice trembling with rage. “I wish I’d never met you. You’re a monster.”
Her smile faltered, eyes flashing with fury. She jumped up, the knife still clutched in her hand. “You don’t understand, Sunghoon. I did all this for you! I dedicated everything to you! After everything I've done for you? After all the sacrifices, how dare you say something so lethal to me!”
She began to rant, her voice rising hysterically. "You wanna know a fact? Your stupid girlfriend is in that goddamn vat," she pointed to a large container in the corner, "I made fucking jewelry out of her teeth! I did it all for you! Because I fucking love you!"
Sunghoon’s words cut through her madness. “I hate you. I never want to see you again, nor will I ever love you!”
In a fit of rage, she lunged at him, her knife flashing through the air, stabbing him repeatedly while screaming, "How can you say that? How can you not see my love?!" She didn’t stop until the room was filled with the sound of his final, choked gasp. His lifeless body fell to the floor, a silent testament to her unbridled fury.
Sunghoon's blood splattered across the room as he slumped forward, lifeless. She stepped back, panting, realizing the enormity of what she had done.
As the reality sank in, she started sobbing hysterically. "No, no Sunghoon! Wake up!" she pleaded, shaking his lifeless form. Tears streamed down her face as she fell to her knees, her sobs echoing through the cold basement. “I’m sorry, Sunghoon. I’m so, so sorry,” she whispered, her voice breaking with every word. She reached out to him, her hands trembling, but it was too late. He was gone.
Her mind raced, the reality of her actions crashing down on her like a tidal wave. She had killed him, the one person she had claimed to love. The despair was overwhelming, the weight of her guilt crushing her spirit. She grabbed the knife, her hands shaking as she considered ending it all. Her fingers brushed against her throat, the blade’s edge cold and unforgiving.
But then, the distant sound of sirens cut through the silence, pulling her back from the edge. The police were coming. She had to flee. With a final, anguished scream, she stumbled to the emergency exit, her footsteps echoing through the dark basement.
She burst through the door, the fresh air biting at her skin like icy needles. The night was alive with the wail of sirens, the flashing lights slicing through the darkness, growing ever closer. She ran, her legs pounding against the grass, her breath ragged and desperate. The relentless police lights grew brighter behind her, a haunting reminder that she could never escape her sins.
As the sirens blared louder, panic clawed at her throat. She made a final, desperate decision. She couldn’t face the world, not after what she had done. The knife glinted in her hand, its blade sharp and cold, a harbinger of release. She raised it to her throat, trembling as she prepared to end it all. But then, the shouts of the approaching officers pierced the night, their voices urgent and commanding. The reality of her situation hit her like a sledgehammer, knocking the breath from her lungs.
With a final, choked sob, she dropped the knife, her strength evaporating as her body collapsed to the ground. The police swarmed around her, their voices a distant echo, their hands
rough as they pulled her from the cold ground. Darkness clawed at the edges of her vision, dragging her down into its merciless embrace. The last thing she saw was the flashing lights, the sirens wailing a mournful dirge, a cruel reminder of the hell she had created for herself.
As consciousness slipped away, a final, despairing thought flickered in her mind: Sunghoon. His name was a whispered lament, a ghost of a hope that had long since died.
And then, there was nothing but darkness.
ALLODOXAPHOBIA
al-lo-dox-a-pho-bi-a
is the fear of opinions. This phobia can manifest as a fear of being pressured by the opinions and expectations of others, including friends.
✦ 𝗣𝗔𝗜𝗥𝗜𝗡𝗚: [college student!p.sh x female college student!reader]
✦ 𝗚𝗘𝗡𝗥𝗘: [angst]
✦ 𝗪𝗔𝗥𝗡𝗜𝗡𝗚𝗦: [break up / unhealthy coping mechanism]
A month had passed. Exactly a month since that one unfortunate night when their relationship ended. Since then, she had
finally allowed herself to feel and breathe freely. She permitted herself to identify the sadness, the anger, the disgust,
and the deep emptiness within her. Yet, she also granted herself healing and the assurance of her own presence and peace of mind.
She made the decision to avoid any interactions with him at all costs, just to let herself breathe.
I set myself free in my own time
now I'm all alone I really don't mind
At some point, she found herself in the stands of the basketball hall, there to show her support for Jungwon - her best friend of
six years — who was ready to have a match with his team against the opposing school. As she sat there, she overheard some girls
sitting in front of her gossiping about her and Sunghoon's past relationship.
Apparently, every time Sunghoon is asked about the reason for their breakup, he either shrugs it off by telling others that they
didn't share the same trajectory or, if he's constantly pressed about it, he says they broke up because of a lack of time due to
their tight schedules and exams. What a lie.
but would you leave it out
when you tell everyone about us
so much went so wrong between me and you
Trying to ignore the recently received information, she cheered silently for her best friend throughout the whole match,
yet she was not able to shrug off the memories of her breakup with Sunghoon.
Sunghoon has always been a man of pride, whether it was his grades, his looks, or his family's wealth. He always had everything he wanted. Yet, the only thing he did not have was a significant other. While all his friends were bragging about their relationships, Sunghoon could not help but feel pressured and down. So he decided to date her.
They met in a shared chemistry class, where Sunghoon desperately looked for a girl he could pick to be his girlfriend. He flashed his beautiful smile at her and arranged to meet up frequently, whether it was for their studies, the music they shared, or simply each other's presence. At first, he thought the feelings would come after a while, but they didn't, and he did not want to deal with that issue any further. He chose to ignore the tenderness and kept on feeding the facade of being in love.
After a while of dating, Sunghoon's constant way of vaunting about his girlfriend to his friends became very stressful and bothersome to her. She could not stand the pressure of always being the center of attention around his friends. She elected to calmly confront her boyfriend about the struggle she had been hiding deep down, which resulted in a heated argument. Sunghoon revealed his real intentions about their relationship, explaining how he just wanted to boost his self-esteem, to feel less left out, less pressured, and not embarrassed around his friends for not having a girlfriend.
She could not believe nor process the words that spilled from his mouth, so she just stared at him in disbelief. Sunghoon, not able to stand her silence, told her how much he cherished her just as a trophy to show around his friends, without having any strings attached. Soon after, she made the decision to end their relationship. Unable to look at his face anymore, she spared no time and stormed out of his college room to go to her own.
Tears threatened to spill out, yet she did not cry. She did not want to cry. Arriving in her own room, she blocked his number and decided to go to sleep,
just to ignore her own salty eyes.
now that it's done
you can tell all your friends
After the match ended with a win for her school's team, everyone cheered loudly while she just smiled proudly at her best friend.
The basketball players approached the stands, and in the crowd of the team, she noticed a familiar face—not her best friend's,
but her ex-boyfriend's—Sunghoon.
Sunghoon, running ahead of himself towards the stands, smiled brightly and hugged a tall and slim female figure, then a moment later, kissed her passionately.
Seeing this, she looked quite shocked and felt a little bit hurt, but she hoped he treated that girl differently than he had treated her.
without me around
you can take turns with everyone
Some time passed. Just as she was about to exit the toilet stall, she heard a girl running and crying into the stall next to hers, disrupting her peace. She decided to stay quiet, not wanting to startle the girl. Accidentally, she overheard the girl talking to someone on the phone.
Through tears, the girl explaines how much she loved a boy and how hurt she felt after an argument a few minutes ago over a minor inconvenience. The girl continued, describing how the boy had said hurtful things to her, claiming he did not love her and that she was useless, only seen as another trophy by him. Hearing this, she froze on the spot, her own breakup suddenly flooding back to her.
She exited the stall in a hurry and walked anxiously through the school hall, her thoughts racing freely in her mind.
She couldn't believe that the boy she once loved and cherished had turned into such a heartless pride machine.
She could not believe that Sunghoon continued to break the hearts of innocent girls just to feed his own ego and impress his friends.
even now
as I'm on my own
it wears me down
and I've lost control
Arriving at her dorm room, she lied in her bed and chuckled at her own hope of Sunghoon changing. Soon after, the chuckles turned into wholehearted laughter as she reminisced about the lies Sunghoon told his friends about their past relationship and their reasons for breaking up.
after all
we've been through
would you tell everyone
leaving out
how you made me feel
and what went wrong
Right after, the laughter turned into single droplets of tears, which trickled down her cheeks as she realized how insecure Sunghoon must feel — unable to tell the truth and live authentically, wearing a mask while breaking hearts. She felt sorry for him, though she shouldn't have; after all, he had broken her heart.
Yet here she was, and the world did not end.
now that it's done
you can tell all your friends
At the end, their priorities diverged:
she would prioritize her future significant other,
while he would always prioritize his pride and his FRIENDS.
without me around you can take turns with everyone
you can tell all your friends
you can tell all your friends
Authors Note:
Yellow yall,, my first ff on tumblr and ngl kinda nervous,, hope you enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing this !!
I am open for any improvements, so feedback is very much appreciated (the negative one as much as the positive),,
take care everyone !! (?)
