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@thereaderinyourmind
welcome ?
- name -> aurora
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hi dear readers, i'm aurora, welcome to my blog ♥︎.
i've been here for a while and currently only write about SKZ, but i might add something about other fandoms in the future. before you proceed, i warn you that my work may contain adult themes. happy reading.
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CHAPTER TWO
the boys are starting to get used to prison, but it's not easy.
hyunjin begins to plan the escape.
chan is lost in his thoughts, unable to think of anything but you.
11:32 PM, JUNE 6th.
Rikers Island Jail, Cell 142.
MINHO AND JISUNG
The first night wasn't peaceful. It was a silent battlefield.
The prison wasn't sleeping. And neither were they.
It was dark, but full of noises. Noises that didn't belong anywhere safe.
The clanking of bars.
The raucous laughter of the inmates further away.
The sudden shouts from some cell.
The slow, heavy tread of the guards.
It was an environment that got under the skin.
That reminded you, every minute, that you were no longer free...and above all, that you weren't safe.
Minho stared up looked at the bed frames of the bunk bed he shared with jisung, motionless. His hands clasped behind his head.
Every now and then he closed his eyes, but then opened them immediately.
He couldn't sleep. He couldn't even try.
The mattress was hard. The air was heavy. The silence was threatening.
I have to get used to it.
he thought.
I have to do it quickly.
But his body didn't want to. His brain didn't want to.
His instincts screamed at him that this wasn't a place to sleep.
Jisung tossed and turned, the mattress was hard and uncomfortable.
His heart was pounding too fast.
Every noise made him jump.
A distant laugh. A bang against a bar. A sudden scream.
«I can't take it...» he whispered into the darkness as he leaned over their bunk bed to look at Minho.
Minho heard him. He opened his eyes and looked at him. Jisung was agitated.
«I know, Jisung...I know,» he whispered quietly, wanting to reassure him somehow. «Tomorrow I'll ask Changbin for earplugs, so you won't have trouble sleeping. Now breathe slowly and close your eyes, think of something that makes you feel good. I'm here with you, I won't abandon you...»
His words calmed Jisung a little. So he did as Minho had suggested.
«Thank you, Minho hyung...for always being there...»
A sincere smile appeared on Minho's lips.
«Sleep now...» he whispered softly.
And Jisung closed his eyes calmly, knowing his lifelong friend was there with him.
11:39 PM, JUNE 6th.
Rikers Island Jail, Cell 141.
FELIX, JEONGIN AND SEUNGMIN
Felix was trembling under the thin blanket, his eyes open in the darkness.
His breathing was shallow. His hands clasped on his chest.
«Jeongin...?» he whispered.
Jeongin turned to him. «I'm here.»
«I'm scared.»
Jeongin sighed softly.
«I know. I'm scared too...» he paused and then continued: «But luckily we're together.»
Felix nodded. He closed his eyes. He tried to sleep. But he couldn't.
Seungmin was sitting on the bed, his back against the wall, his knees bent. He wasn't asleep. He didn't want to.
Every now and then he looked out the bars, as if waiting for someone to appear. As if ready to react.
I can't let my guard down.
he thought.
Not here.
And yet, at a certain point, without realizing it...he fell asleep.
Sitting up. With his eyes still half-closed.
11:54 PM, JUNE 6th.
Rikers Island Jail, Cell 143.
HYUNJIN AND CHAN
Hyunjin was sleeping like a log. His breathing was slow, deep, regular.
As if he were in his own bed, in his own home, and not in a prison cell.
Chan looked at him for a second, incredulous.
How the hell does he do that?
But while Hyunjin was in dreamland. Chan didn't sleep at all.
Not because of fear. Not because of where he was.
Because of her.
The doctor.
Her gaze.
That moment suspended in the courtyard.
He couldn't stop thinking about her.
They had looked at each other for a few minutes.
But he couldn't get her out of his head.
Every time he closed his eyes, he saw her face. Every time he tried to breathe, he felt her gaze.
And it was driving him crazy.
05:13 AM, JUNE 7th.
Rikers Island Jail, Cell 143.
CHAN
The sky was still dark when Chan got out of bed. His body ached, but that wasn't what was keeping him awake.
He was still thinking about her. And since he wanted to distract himself, he started working out.
He knelt on the cold floor and began doing push-ups.
One.
Two.
Three.
His breathing was becoming labored. His muscles burned, but it was a pain he knew.
A pain he could control.
When he reached 60, he stopped only to change exercises.
Sit-ups. Then squats. Then more push-ups.
Hyunjin woke up to the sound of his labored breathing.
«What are you doing…?» he muttered, his voice thick with sleep.
«Working out.»
Hyunjin sat up, his eyes still half-closed.
He looked at the clock hanging on the cell wall.
«At five in the morning?»
Chan didn't answer. He kept moving, his body tensing and relaxing like a perfect machine.
Hyunjin watched him for a few seconds. Confused.
«Are you serious?» he continued.
Chan stopped and raised his head to look at him. Just a second.
Then he spoke.
«Go back to sleep, Hyunjin.»
Hyunjin threw himself back onto the mattress lying down.
«You could have warned me...I thought you were jerking off...» he muttered, his voice muffled by the pillow.
Chan didn't answer. But his face was hilarious. His ears were red and his mouth was open.
«Are you crazy?»
Hyunjin turned to him, looking down at him from the top of the bunk bed.
«I woke up to your labored breathing. You sounded like a bull in heat...I really thought—»
«Hyunjin...sleep!» he said in a tone that brooked no argument.
«Okay, okay, I'll stop...» he said with a crooked smile.
Hyunjin went back to sleep.
Chan didn't.
07:53 AM, JUNE 7th.
Rikers Island Jail, shared showers.
The communal shower was a large room with white tiles, lit by overly bright neon lights.
The water came down cold, loud, creating a fine mist that made everything grayer.
The seven of them entered together.
They weren't speaking.
Not yet.
Minho took off his shirt with a sigh.
«Christ... it feels like washing in a refrigerator.»
Jisung shivered.
«I won't survive this place.»
Seungmin snorted.
«Stop complaining.»
Felix trembled under the spray.
«Oh my God, it's freezing... it's freezing... it's freezing...»
Jeongin handed him a towel, smiling.
«Dry yourself.»
Hyunjin washed his short hair, massaging the back of his neck.
«Enjoy the cool water, it's hot outside.»
Chan didn't speak.
The water ran down his broad shoulders, down his back, over his tense muscles.
His eyes were closed, his breathing slow.
He was thinking about her.
Again.
Hyunjin noticed him.
«You've been weird since yesterday... what's wrong?»
Chan opened his eyes.
«I'm thinking...» He gestured around them. «About us in here, about what it'll be like when we get out of here...»
«Hmm. Well, think about this...» He grabbed a towel and wrapped it around his waist. «After all this, we'll be on a tropical island drinking ice-cold beer and burning our asses in the sun.»
Chan glanced at him. «I hope it works...»
Hyunjin laughed.
«It will work, Chan, have faith...»
When they returned to their cells, they found Changbin waiting for them.
He stood, his arms crossed, his posture stiff as a guard... but his eyes were those of a friend.
He had a black bag at his feet, filled with things.
«Finally.» he said, his voice low. «Come in.»
One by one, the six entered their cells.
Changbin approached the first: Chan and Hyunjin's.
Changbin opened the bag.
Inside were the items they had requested the day before.
«Okay.» he said, rummaging through the bag. «What you asked for.»
He bent down and pulled out a stack of books.
He passed them through the bars to Chan.
«For you.»
Chan took them in both hands.
«Thanks, Bin.»
Changbin nodded, without smiling.
«At least keep your mind busy.»
Then he pulled out a stack of papers and a box of pencils.
«Hyunjin.»
Hyunjin took them as if they were gold.
«Perfect. Thank you.»
Changbin bent down again.
He pulled out a small guitar, one of those cheap ones, but intact.
«Jisung.»
Jisung took it with a sincere smile.
«I don't know how you did it...Thank you.»
«Don't ask.» Changbin replied. «And don't play too loud.»
Then he moved on to Minho's books.
Minho took them without saying anything.
Then the baseball for Seungmin.
Seungmin bounced it once in his palm, as if to feel its weight.
Then the comics for Felix.
Felix took them as if they were treasures, a bright smile adorning his lips.
Then the books for Jeongin.
Jeongin nodded seriously and thanked him.
Changbin closed his bag.
It seemed finished. But it wasn't.
He approached Chan and Hyunjin's cell.
He looked around. The corridor was empty.
The cameras were turned elsewhere—because he had turned them elsewhere.
Then, with a slow, almost imperceptible gesture, he reached into his jacket's inside pocket.
And pulled out a small object, wrapped in a white handkerchief.
He passed it to Hyunjin through the bars, without saying a word.
Hyunjin took it and opened it discreetly.
A screwdriver.
Small. Thin.
Perfect for unscrewing the toilet screws screwed into the wall.
Hyunjin looked up, his eyes met Changbin's.
Words weren't necessary.
Changbin spoke anyway, in a low voice.
«You've never gotten it from me.»
Hyunjin nodded, smiling.
«I've never seen it.»
Chan watched the scene in silence. His heart was pounding. Not out of fear.
Because it was the first time in months that he'd seen someone risk everything for him.
Changbin turned to leave. Then he stopped.
«The cafeteria opens for breakfast in ten minutes. I'll keep an eye on you...don't cause any harm.»
Hyunjin smiled.
«Us? Never.»
Changbin looked at him with an expression that said: Idiot. Then he left.
08:09 AM, JUNE 7th.
Rikers Island Jail, prison cafeteria.
CHANGBIN
The cafeteria was full. Noisy. Chaotic.
Changbin watched the inmates as they ate their food.
Then he saw them, his friends. Sitting together.
Close. Silent.
And Chan.
Chan had a tray of scrambled eggs, dry bread, and an apple in front of him.
He didn't touch it.
While he talked to the others, he pushed the food around with his fork, not really eating.
Changbin clenched his jaw. This isn't good.
He turned. He left the cafeteria.
He walked down the corridor to the infirmary.
He knocked.
The door opened and you were there.
«Yes?» you asked, surprised to see him there.
Changbin took a breath.
«Good morning, Doctor, excuse me for rushing in unannounced...but I need you to do something for me...»
You smiled kindly. «Just tell me, Commander, I'll do what I can...»
«I need you to make daily visits to prisoner 94941, Mr. Bahng.»
You looked up.
«Why?»
«It's strange, he's not eating, he's not sleeping well. I want to make sure he's okay...I can't let him collapse.»
You nodded slowly.
«Okay. I'll take care of it. Tomorrow I have visits from his cellmate and his neighbors, so I'll do it for him too.»
Changbin looked at her a second too long.
Then he nodded.
«Thank you.»
And he left.
03:12 PM, JUNE 7th.
Rikers Island Jail, Cell 143.
HYUNJIN
The cell was silent as Hyunjin knelt in front of the toilet.
«Okay... let's get started.»
Chan stood in front of the door, in a guard position.
Hyunjin took out his screwdriver. He looked at it for a second.
Then he began to slowly unscrew the bolts. They were tight, and it took him longer than it should have.
He managed to unscrew the first one. The metal creaked softly.
«The first one's gone...» Hyunjin whispered.
Chan nodded as he looked down the corridor.
Every step. Every shadow.
«How's your uncle?» he asked.
«Very well, alive and well. He's the one helping us.» he said, starting to unscrew the second screw.
Chan snorted with a half-smile.
«And so after years he showed up...»
Hyunjin smiled. The second one was gone, now he only had two left.
«He'd do anything for his favorite nephew...»
Chan shook his head. «You're the only one who has... Idiot.»
«I know.» he said, unscrewing the third and then the fourth.
The toilet moved slightly. Hyunjin held his breath.
«Here we go...»
Chan turned for a second.
He saw the darkness beyond the ceramic.
A darkness that promised freedom.
«Will it work?» he asked.
Hyunjin looked at him, smiling.
«Yes.»
Chan nodded.
«Good.»
09:33 PM, JUNE 7th.
Rikers Island Jail, infirmary.
You were sitting at the infirmary desk, Bang Chan's file open in front of you.
Christopher Chan Bahng.
Korean - Australian
28 years old.
Engineer.
Convicted of first-degree murder.
The photos were cold. Documents. Numbers. Data.
But you didn't see that.
You only saw him. His gaze in the courtyard.
That way he looked at you as if he'd forgotten how to breathe.
As if he'd seen something he wasn't expecting.
And you...
You'd heard something you shouldn't have heard.
You bit your lip absentmindedly.
You leafed through the file.
«He's not eating enough...» you muttered.
«Insomnia...» you tapped your finger lightly on the surface of the desk absentmindedly. «well, it's common in here.»
Then you noticed the note Changbin added.
"Daily visits requested. Reason: suspected malnutrition."
You closed the file and took a deep breath.
«Okay, Christopher Bahng...» you whispered, looking at his photo.
«Let's see if i can resolve this...»
─────────────────────────────────
go back to the index
go back to the skz prison series masterlist
previous: CHAPTER ONE
next: CHAPTER THREE (soon)
─────────────────────────────────
© 2026 thereaderinyourmind (auroraackerman11), please don't claim my work.
CHAPTER ONE
the first part of the plan went as planned.
hyunjin and the others managed to get to chan.
but what happens now?
5:01 PM, JUNE 6th.
Rikers Island Jail
The administrative corridor of Rikers Island Penitentiary smelled like a jumble of smells: disinfectant, paper, metal.
A smell you'll never forget.
The sound of your shoes echoed through the administrative corridor as you followed the guard who was leading you to the warden's office.
Each step seemed heavier than the last, but not out of fear.
Out of awareness.
You were truly there. In the place you'd always said you wanted to be. In the place no one wanted to go.
The guard stops in front of a dark wooden door.
«Warden Cooper is waiting for you, Doctor.»
You nod, take a deep breath, and then knock gently on the door.
«Come in.» The voice was deep, authoritative.
You open the door and step inside.
The office was large, tidy, with a window overlooking the inner courtyard. The director Samuel Cooper sat behind a massive desk, his hands clasped, his gaze intent.
A man in his sixties, gray hair, light eyes, and a posture that spoke of years of discipline.
«Doctor Y/n...» he says, indicating the chair in front of him. «Sit down please.»
You sit, keeping your back straight.
Samuel observes you for a few seconds, as if trying to understand what he was looking at.
«I've read your resume. It's brilliant. And it's...unusual.»
You smile slightly. «I hope in a good way.»
Samuel raised an eyebrow.
«It depends on how you look at it. You turned down two hospitals, a private clinic, and a research center. To come here.»
He leaned forward slightly. «Why?»
You didn't look away. No sign of fear.
«Because you need someone who isn't afraid to heal and care for the people here.»
Samuel remained silent.
Then he nodded slowly.
«You know you won't find gratitude here. Or respect. Or safety.»
«I know.»
«And you know that many of these men haven't seen a doctor in years. Some don't speak. Some lie. Some...they might hurt you.»
«I know that too...»
Samuel took a deep breath.
«Then welcome, Doctor Y/n.»
You smiled. A full, sincere smile.
Then you left the office.
As soon as you were outside, you picked up your phone and dialed your father's number.
«Dad?»
«Honey! So?»
«They hired me.»
Silence.
Then a heavy sigh.
«Honey… you can't work in a place like this. It's dangerous. It's not for you.»
«Dad... I want to be useful. I want to help these people; they have no one to rely on.»
«You can help elsewhere too! In a hospital, in a clinic—»
«No.»
Your voice was firm.
«I want to be here.»
On the other end of the line, my father remained silent.
Then, in a lower voice: «Just promise me you'll be careful.»
«I promise.»
You ended the call.
You took a deep breath.
What a day...
5:15 PM, JUNE 6th.
Rikers Island Jail
CHAN
The cell was small, lit by a yellowish light that made everything more hideous. An unnatural silence hung in cell 143.
It was all too quiet.
Chan sat on the bed, his hands clasped, his gaze fixed on the floor.
He'd spent months trying not to go crazy. Months wondering why. Months hating the one person who'd done all this.
Adrian.
But now the problem was different: his seven friends were there with him. One in a police uniform, the other six as prisoners.
Hyunjin was there. In his own cell.
Chan stared at him.
«You're an idiot.»
Hyunjin smiled.
«I know.»
«You ruined your life... your lives.»
«I know that too.»
Chan clenched his jaw.
«Why?»
Hyunjin sat down next to him, leaning his head against the wall.
«Because I wouldn't have left you here alone. Simple.»
Chan sighed.
Then he noticed his haircut.
«And this?» He pointed to Hyunjin's short hair.
Hyunjin ran a hand over the back of his neck. «Well, Felix dyed his hair. I just trimmed it. For a change, you know.»
Chan shook his head. «You've always been an idiot...does she know that?» His tone was curious.
But Hyunjin didn't answer him.
Seeing his silence, a sarcastic smile played on Chan's lips.
«I asked because you text her every damn day, probably even tell her how many times you go to the bathroom...» he said jokingly.
Hyunjin turned his face toward him slowly. His breathing controlled.
«You know, I didn't know my private life was such a fun topic for you...when you understand what it means to be in love with someone, then we could talk about this...» His eyes were half-closed in seriousness.
Chan struggled not to laugh. «If you really want to know, it amuses me a lot...»
Hyunjin didn't look away; in fact, a mischievous smile appeared on his lips.
«Why don't you tell me about yourself instead? You've gotten bigger...» Hyunjin retorted. «What the fuck did you do in the gym? Your arms look like tree trunks.»
Chan snorted. «I had nothing else to do.»
«Oh yeah, sure...» he says ironically, sighing.
Then he starts talking again.
«Anyway, let's talk about serious things...» he said, casting a quick glance toward the bars, checking to see if there were any guards.
Hyunjin approached, lowering his voice.
«I have a plan to get you out of here... you just have to trust me...»
Chan stiffened. «Tell me.»
Hyunjin looked toward the bars, making sure no one was listening.
«Do you see our cells? Behind these walls is a corridor. Remember? It's the one that leads to the boiler rooms, the ventilation ducts, and the plumbing.»
Chan nodded.
Hyunjin paused and pointed to the toilet in the corner of the room.
«Changbin will get us a screwdriver. If we unscrew it from the wall, we're inside the corridor...then, going toward the end of it, there's a thin concrete wall we need to break through. We'll find a way. Once we do that, we'll find ourselves in a canal, and after crossing it, we'll have access to a pipe that will take us to the storage room next to the infirmary. The infirmary is the only room in this place with a window directly outside. We'll get out of there...»
Chan stared at him, incredulous.
«It's a crazy plan.»
«Yes.»
«And risky.»
«Yes.»
«And we could die.»
Hyunjin smiled.
«Yes.»
Chan sighed.
«Do the others know?»
«Yes, I made sure they know what to do...»
Chan nodded. «Okay.»
5:17 PM, JUNE 6th.
Rikers Island Jail
MINHO AND JISUNG
The cell was cramped, and the smell of metal and detergent hung in the air.
Minho sat on the bed, his arms crossed, his gaze fixed on the wall.
Jisung sat on the floor, knees drawn up to his chest.
«You know, I didn't think I'd end up here...in prison...» Jisung muttered. «With all of you, all together...it's absurd...»
Minho closed his eyes.
«The absurd thing is how Chan was blamed...that idiot will pay dearly...» Minho growled.
Jisung sighed and nodded. Then he spoke.
«What if we don't make it?...I mean, if we don't make it out?»
Minho looked at him. «Then we'll die trying.»
Jisung swallowed. «You scare me like this...»
«It doesn't scare me.»
Minho lay down on the bed.
«I'm more scared of leaving him here.»
5:20 PM, JUNE 6th.
Rikers Island Jail
JEONGIN, SEUNGMIN AND FELIX.
Their cell was slightly larger than the others, designed for three inmates.
Felix sat on the bed, his hands shaking. Jeongin was beside him, a hand on his shoulder. Seungmin stood, leaning against the wall.
«This place makes me anxious,» Felix said. «I've never been in a situation like this.»
Jeongin nodded. «Me neither.»
Seungmin sighed. «None of us expected to find ourselves in a situation like this. But...we're here to get Chan out. So let's just face it...»
Felix looked at him. «Are you afraid?»
Seungmin remained silent.
Then he said: «Yes. But not enough to stop me.»
5:30 PM, JUNE 6th.
Rikers Island Jail
CHANGBIN
The corridor was empty.
All his colleagues were on lunch break, and Changbin took advantage of it.
He walked toward the cells where his friends were staying, at the end of the corridor. The most isolated ones.
He stopped in front of the first one. Chan and Hyunjin's.
«Do you need anything?»
Hyunjin approached the bars, smiling mischievously.
«You're attractive in police clothes...I've never seen you so authoritative...» the tone was joking.
Changbin raised an eyebrow, remaining impassive, but a half-smile betrayed his expression.
He asked the question again.
Chan approached the bars. «Books. You choose, I have no preference.»
Hyunjin: «Pencils and paper.»
From the next cell:
Jisung: «A small guitar...if you can.»
Minho: « thriller or crime books.»
And finally
Seungmin: «A ball.»
Felix: «Comics... anything.»
Jeongin: «Me too, adventure books.»
Changbin nodded and wrote everything down on his notebook.
«Well, I'll see what I can do...now get ready, the yard time is coming up soon. Don't do anything stupid.»
Hyunjin smiled.
«Don't worry, boss, we're all safe here.»
Changbin shook his head and walked back to his office.
6:20 PM, JUNE 6th.
Rikers Island Jail
CHAN
The late afternoon sun cast an orange light on the courtyard.
The air was thick, still, as if holding its breath along with the inmates.
The seven were together, far from the other inmates.
Hyunjin spoke softly. «Chan and I have to unscrew the screws on our toilet to access the corridor... then we'll figure out how to break through the concrete wall...I just have to think of a way to distract everyone in here...»
Everyone nodded.
«Be careful, we're not surrounded by normal people in here... we're surrounded by criminals... they could do anything, let's always try to move together, never alone...» Hyunjin continued.
A half-smile of amusement played on Minho's lips.
«If they try to touch me or you all... I'll cut off every single finger from those filthy hands they have...»
Jisung looked at him in shock, as did Felix and Jeongin.
«Damn, I didn't know you'd become so violent...» Jisung says.
Then he thinks better of it and continues: «No, you've always been like this...You just didn't show it much at school...»
Minho gently places a hand on his shoulder. «We live in a shitty world, Jisung.» He looks into his eyes with breathtaking seriousness. «Get over it...»
Chan was listening to everything.
Concentrated.
Attentive.
He was standing, his arms uncovered, his white tank top revealing every line of muscle that forced training had sculpted.
Sweat glistened on his skin, but it wasn't the heat that made him breathe harder. It was the tension.
At a certain point, however, he stopped listening to his friends' conversation.
Because something, or rather, someone, had caught his attention.
A figure.
A white coat.
A woman.
She must have been a doctor, judging by her attire.
She walked alongside Changbin, who was pointing to the infirmary.
Her step was light, almost silent, as if she didn't want to disturb the air around her.
The coat brushed her legs, following the rhythm of her lean, sinuous body, with delicate, unobtrusive curves.
Her hair, loose and not too long, swayed slightly in the wind.
Chan saw her.
And the world stopped for a single damned minute.
The courtyard, the screams of the inmates, the clanging of the gates...everything vanished.
He saw only her.
And she, as if she had felt his gaze on her, turned.
Their eyes met.
Not a normal look.
It was something deeper. More primal.
They were studying each other.
She knew him by sight. She had seen him before. Five months earlier, she had learned of the murder of the CEO of NorthBridge Structural Group. She watched Chan's arrest live. Yet when she saw him in handcuffs, she didn't see the look of a guilty man... but of a lost man. A man who had been there by mistake.
And now, looking at him, he seemed empty.
But she couldn't look away from him. There was something about him that she couldn't explain.
And Chan...He was completely lost in her gaze.
He wasn't used to being looked at like that.
His breath caught.
His fingers stiffened.
His heart thumped hard, as if it were leaping out of his chest.
She looked away for a moment, nodding at Changbin's words, which she hadn't even heard.
Then she looked up.
And found him still there.
Staring. Immersed. Lost.
Changbin continued to speak, oblivious.
She nodded, but wasn't listening.
Not anymore.
Because those eyes — dark, deep, filled with something that shouldn't have been there — were holding her.
Chan stood up straight, not looking away from her.
The movement was so subtle he didn't even notice.
Hyunjin nudged him.
«Hey! Earth calling Chan.»
Jeongin, seeing Chan unresponsive, looked in the direction Chan was looking and saw the doctor. Then he looked back at Chan, trying to call out: «Hyung?»
Chan didn't answer.
He couldn't. She was still there.
And he couldn't look away.
The wind blew a strand of hair across her face.
She pushed it away with a slow, almost shy gesture.
Chan felt something tighten inside him. Something he hadn't felt in a long time.
Desire? Curiosity?
He didn't know. He only knew he couldn't breathe.
She entered the infirmary.
The door closed behind her.
Chan remained still, his eyes fixed on that spot, as if he could still see her through the metal.
Hyunjin looked at him, then sighed.
«Bang Chan...» he muttered, shaking him.
Chan recovered, shaking his head as if to chase something away.
«Sorry, I got distracted...»
«Don't worry, Jisung and Felix were just starting to list their life dramas...» Hyunjin joked, turning to them.
«Hey! It was serious...» Felix exclaimed, sulking.
Hyunjin chuckled.
Chan nodded without answering. He couldn't.
Because something had sparked inside him.
Something that shouldn't have sparked in a place like that.
Something that should never have sparked.
But it was too late.
That meeting—that look—had marked him.
And he knew it.
8:07 PM, JUNE 6th.
Rikers Island Jail
CHAN
The penitentiary cafeteria had a smell none of the seven would ever forget: old plastic, overcooked food, and sweat.
A smell that clung to their clothes, their skin, their thoughts.
The fluorescent lights flickered overhead, making everything paler, duller.
The noise was constant: trays banging, chairs scraping, loud laughter, insults hurled from table to table.
The sound of a prison that tried to seem alive, but was actually a depressing place.
The seven entered together. A compact block. A presence that attracted immediate glances.
Hyunjin in front. Chan beside him. The others behind, like a long shadow.
Some inmates turned. Others whistled. Still others ignored them, but with that feigned indifference that hides attention.
Chan felt eyes on him. He felt them on his skin, on his arms, on the back of his neck. He was used to it by now.
But tonight… it was different. Because he wasn't alone.
Hyunjin gave him a light shove with his shoulder.
«Don't look at them. They're not worth our time.»
Chan nodded, but didn't answer.
They reached the counter.
A woman with a hairnet slammed a portion of something that seemed… indefinable onto their tray. A mush that looked like a mixture of spinach, meat, and something they couldn't describe.
Minho looked at her.
«What the fuck is that?»
The woman didn't even look up. «Dinner.»
Jisung grimaced. «It looks… like a failed experiment.»
Felix swallowed. «Jisung's right, it really does look like a failed experiment.»
Jeongin picked up the tray and sniffed it. The smell was normal; the mush smelled of spinach and meat.
«It smells okay... but it looks really bad...»
Seungmin took his without saying anything. His stomach growled.
«Just eat. We have no choice.»
They all sat at the same table, the one furthest from the others, near the wall.
Chan sat last. He looked at the food. Then he looked at the others.
Hyunjin was already stirring his portion with a disgusted expression.
«I wasn't expecting this, I didn't think the food would be so crappy.»
«It's actually not bad. It looks awful, but it's edible...» Felix said, taking another bite of his dinner.
Minho snorted. «I'm not touching it.»
Seungmin looked at him. «Oh, I'm sorry the prince here isn't enjoying his dinner. Maybe we can ask the manager of this shitty place to order you a steak and asparagus, eh?» His tone was sarcastic. He continued speaking: «Eat. You'll need energy.»
Minho stared at him. «Are you lecturing me, Seungmin? I'm not one of your students...»
Seungmin chuckled. «You're such an asshole...but you know, I'm not the doctor here. I know that usually if you don't eat, you faint. So...you decide.» his tone was mocking.
Minho opened his mouth to retort, but finally picked up his fork to eat.
Jisung looked at his tray as if it were a dangerous animal.
«If I die, tell my mother I've always loved her.»
Jeongin patted him on the shoulder. «You won't die. At worst, you'll throw up.»
«Thanks, Jeongin. I feel much better...» Jisung replied ironically.
Chan watched them.
One by one.
Their expressions, their movements, their attempts to appear normal in a place that wasn't normal.
And for a moment, just a moment, he felt something he hadn't felt in months.
Warmth. Family.
Hyunjin looked at him. «What are you thinking about?»
Chan looked down at his food.
«So many things... but the only thing I can think of right now is a nice ramen... I'd give gold to eat one.»
Hyunjin laughed softly. «As soon as we get out, you can eat as much as you want...we'll all have a nice meal together like the old days...»
Chan chuckled, and a sincere smile touched his lips. He finally smiled for the first time in months.
Then, slowly, the noise in the cafeteria changed. It got quieter. More tense.
Some inmates were watching them. Not with curiosity. With interest.
Minho noticed first. «I don't like the way they're looking at us.»
Seungmin nodded. «Me neither.»
Felix curled up a little in his chair. «Why are they looking at us like that?»
Jeongin spoke softly. «Because we're new. And maybe because seem... united.»
Hyunjin leaned forward. His voice was low, controlled.
«Listen. We're not special in here. We're not untouchable. We're nothing. But if we stay together... no one will tear us apart.»
Chan looked at him and nodded.
«Together.»
Minho: «Always.»
Jisung: «Yeah.»
Seungmin: «No one will stop us.»
Felix: «I agree.»
Jeongin: «We're here on a mission. Let's complete it...»
Hyunjin smiled. «Exactly.»
Chan took a deep breath.
He looked at his tray.
Then he looked at his friends.
«Okay,» he said.
«Let's eat. And then we go back to the cell. We have busy days ahead of us.»
Hyunjin nodded. «Chan's right. Come on, eat.»
Everyone nodded and began to eat.
Chan placed his hands on the table.
His fingers trembled slightly.
Not from fear. From adrenaline.
Because that dinner, that table, that inedible-looking food...it was the beginning.
The beginning of something none of them could stop.
And as the cafeteria continued to buzz around them, as the inmates watched them, as the guards paced back and forth...the seven exchanged a look.
A silent pact.
An oath.
Whatever happens...we'll get through it together.
─────────────────────────────────────────
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go back to skz prison series masterlist
read the prologue
next -> CHAPTER TWO
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© 2026 thereaderinyourmind (auroraackerman11), please don't claim my work.
PROLOGUE pt. 4
read part 1, part 2, part 3.
11:15 AM, June 4th.
Bank of New York
HYUNJIN
The bank was lit by cold, almost surgical lights.
The polished floor reflected the footsteps of customers, the orderly lines, the low murmur of those who just wanted to finish quickly and get home.
Outside the june sun beat down on the streets making the air warm.
The automatic door opened.
Hyunjin entered first.
He was wearing an elegant black suit, a leather briefcase in his hand, and his short hair was combed elegantly. He looked like a businessman. He was the only one dressed elegantly.
Behind him, one at a time, Minho, Seungmin, Felix, Jisung, and Jeongin entered.
They didn't look like criminals.
They looked like tired boys, their eyes filled with something no one there could ever understand.
Hyunjin stopped in the center of the room.
He took a breath.
His heart was pounding, but his face was frozen.
Then he spoke, pulling out his gun. A black Glock.
«Get down! Everyone get down!»
His voice boomed like a gunshot.
Panic erupted immediately.
Screams.
A woman dropped her bag, a man stumbled while trying to protect his son.
Minho moved immediately, quickly, decisively.
«Get down! Don't be stupid!»
Seungmin positioned himself near the entrance, making sure no one was trying to escape. His face was tense, his eyes hard, but his hands were shaking slightly.
Felix was pale. He held another gun pointed at the ceiling, but his fingers were white with tension.
Every now and then he looked at Hyunjin, as if to make sure he was still there.
Jisung was breathing shallowly. The hood covered half his face, but his eyes betrayed panic. He moved like an automaton, following orders without thinking.
Jeongin was the only one who still seemed lucid.
He was observing everything: the cameras, the exits, the customers.
His mind was working fast, calculating every possible unexpected event.
Hyunjin fired a shot toward the ceiling.
BANG.
The sound was deafening.
The silence that followed was even more so.
«Give us the money immediately!» Minho shouted, his voice steady.
It was a carefully planned scene.
Perfectly choreographed.
Controlled chaos.
A guard tried to approach, but Minho pointed his gun at him.
«Hey, asshole! Don't be a hero...get down!» His voice was low, threatening.
And the guard stopped.
Felix was shaking so badly that Hyunjin moved closer for a second.
«Breathe.» he murmured. «It's almost over.»
Felix nodded, but couldn't speak.
The sirens came sooner than expected.
A distant howl, then closer and closer, until it vibrated through the walls of the bank.
Hyunjin closed his eyes for a moment.
It's time.
He dropped the gun and briefcase to the floor with a thud.
He raised his hands.
«We surrender!» he shouted. «No one was hurt!»
The others followed.
Minho first, then Seungmin, Jeongin, Felix, Jisung.
The doors flew open.
Police everywhere.
Guns drawn.
Screams.
«Get down! Get down!»
In seconds, they were all lying on the cold floor, hands behind their heads, knees touching the marble.
The handcuffs snapped onto Minho's wrists.
Then onto Seungmin's.
Then Felix, who was shaking so badly the officer had to repeat the order twice.
Jisung's eyes were shining.
Jeongin was breathing heavily.
Seungmin stared at the floor, motionless.
Minho smiled bitterly, as if defying the entire world.
Hyunjin didn't say a word.
He didn't move.
He didn't protest.
When they put the handcuffs on him, he closed his eyes.
I'm coming, Chan. I'm coming to get you.
4:02 PM, June 6th.
Rikers Island Jail
HYUNJIN
They hadn't said a word at the trial.
Except: «We are guilty.»
They were impassive. Without remorse.
The armored van lurched to a stop.
The engine died away, leaving a heavy, almost unreal silence.
Outside, Rikers Island loomed like a monster of concrete and steel.
Guard towers.
Barbed wire.
Inside the van, the six sat side by side.
Orange jumpsuits.
Wrists marked by handcuffs.
Eyes that couldn't hide the fear.
Hyunjin was still.
He stared straight ahead.
His breathing was slow, controlled.
But his hands were shaking just a little, just enough to betray him.
Minho's jaw was clenched, his eyes hard.
Felix was breathing in fits and starts, as if every breath was a struggle.
Jisung's lips were pale, his knees were shaking.
Seungmin stared at the floor, still as stone.
Jeongin took in everything, every detail, every shadow.
The van door opened.
«Get out!»
The guard's voice boomed like a shot.
One by one, they stepped out.
The air was cold, sharp.
The smell of metal, disinfectant, and sweat hit them like a wall.
They lined them up.
One behind the other.
Hands behind their backs.
The main door opened with a deep, metallic clang that sounded like a roar.
They entered.
───
The corridor was long, narrow, lit by flickering neon lights.
The cells on either side were full of eyes.
Eyes that followed them.
Eyes that judged.
Eyes that anticipated.
«New flesh.»
«That man looks like someone I know.»
The voices from a cells.
A laugh.
A whistle.
Felix jumped. Jisung lowered his gaze. Minho stiffened. Seungmin and Jeongin were unfazed.
Hyunjin didn't stop. He didn't slow down. He didn't look at anyone.
He had only one goal.
Find Chan.
───
The voice from the loudspeaker:
«Open cells 143, 142, and 141. Inmate 94941, you have a new cellmate.»
The prisoner identification number bounced off the walls.
Hyunjin's heart stopped for a second.
Chan.
He was close.
Too close.
The guards pushed them forward.
The corridor seemed to narrow, as if it wanted to swallow them.
Then, suddenly, Hyunjin saw him.
4:10 PM, June 6th.
Rikers Island Jail
CHAN
Behind the bars. Sitting on the edge of the bed. Head down. Hands clasped. More fit, but thin. More tired. More dull.
But alive.
When he heard footsteps and the loudspeaker's voice, he looked up.
Changbin was standing before him behind the bars, opening his cell.
And the world stopped.
Chan's eyes widened.
For a moment, he seemed in disbelief.
Hyunjin. Minho. Felix. Jisung. Seungmin. Jeongin.
Everyone there.
All in orange jumpsuits.
All handcuffed.
Chan stood up abruptly, his hands shaking.
«No...»
His voice cracked.
«No, no, no...what the fuck did you do...?»
Hyunjin stopped in front of his cell.
He didn't speak right away.
He looked at him.
He just looked at him.
And in that look was everything.
Pain. Guilt. Love. Promise.
Chan approached him, his fingers gripping so tightly they turned white.
«Why are you here...?»
His eyes were shining.
His voice cracked.
«Why...?»
Hyunjin took a step forward.
The handcuffs jingled.
«Because we would never have left you here to rot for something you didn't do.»
His voice was low, firm, full.
«Never.»
Chan shook his head, desperate.
«You're crazy... you're going to ruin your lives...»
Minho approached.
«Our life without you isn't worth shit.»
Felix had tears in his eyes.
«Hyung... we couldn't leave you here.»
Jisung nodded, trembling.
«We're family. We could never have abandoned you.»
Seungmin spoke softly, but his voice was a fist.
«You saved us all. Now it's our turn.»
Jeongin approached them.
«You're not alone. You won't be anymore.»
Chan covered his face with his hands. His shoulders were shaking.
He wasn't crying.
He was collapsing.
Hyunjin moved closer. Their foreheads almost touched.
«I told you, hyung.» A whisper. A vow.
«I came to get you.»
Chan looked up.
His eyes were shining.
Broken.
Alive.
«Hyunjin...»
His voice trembled.
Hyunjin smiled faintly.
A sad smile, but full of strength.
And in that corridor, between flickering neon lights and cold bars, six boys entered their hell.
Here's the end of this very long prologue. Lol. The next one will be the first real chapter. Stay tuned.
next: CHAPTER 1
previous: PROLOGUE PART 1 — PART 2 ─ PART 3
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© 2026 thereaderinyourmind (auroraackerman11), please don't claim my work.
PROLOGUE pt. 3
read part 1 and part 2
9:15 AM, January 21st.
Courthouse
HYUNJIN
The trial. It was quick. Too quick.
The evidence was "overwhelming." The sentence was inevitable.
Chan just repeated: «I didn't kill him.»
Hyunjin, in the audience, didn't speak. He couldn't.
When the judge pronounced the sentence, Chan looked up at him.
A single question in his eyes: Why?
Hyunjin left the courtroom before anyone saw the tears.
───
The courthouse corridor was cold. People were talking, murmuring, judging.
But Hyunjin couldn't hear anything.
He was out of breath. His hands were shaking. His heart was pounding as if it wanted to burst out of his chest.
Two guards were dragging Chan toward the side exit, the one reserved for condemned inmates. The handcuffs were tight around his wrists. The orange jumpsuit seemed too big for him.
Hyunjin took a step forward. Then another.
The guards stopped him.
«You can't come any closer.»
Chan looked up.
And in that moment, Hyunjin felt the world stop.
Chan's eyes were tired. Empty. Hurt.
But when they saw him... they filled with something like tears. Sadness. Unanswered questions.
«Hyunjin...» Chan murmured, his voice cracking.
Hyunjin came as close as he was allowed.
The guards held him at arm's length, but didn't push him away.
«Chan...» Hyunjin's voice trembled. «I'm sorry... I'm so sorry...»
Chan shook his head softly.
«It's okay.» A whisper. He was devastated. «Adrian did all this just to become the head of the company...»
Hyunjin closed his eyes. He felt his chest tighten, as if someone had reached into him.
«He'll pay... I swear.» His voice cracked.
Chan stared at him. He understood. Not everything. But enough.
«Hyunjin, it's not worth it. They've already made up their minds. They'll take me to Rikers Island.» his voice trembled. «I don't know what's going to happen, but they'll never find the real culprit... I was at the crime scene, not him.»
Hyunjin took a step forward, ignoring the guard who placed a hand on his chest to stop him. «He must have left some traces, right?» he said.
Chan sighed. «I don't think he's that stupid... he must have deleted all the surveillance footage... listen to me, forget it... go home and tell the others I love them, all of you.» Chan's eyes were shining.
«I swear I'll come get you. One way or another. No matter how long it takes. No matter what I have to do.» Hyunjin said.
Chan shook his head, incredulous. «Hyunjin...no. Don't think about me...please.»
Hyunjin smiled. A sad, broken smile, but true. «Hyung…you gave your life for us. For years. You gave up everything to keep us going.»
He took a deep breath. «Now it’s our turn. Now it’s my turn.»
Chan looked down. His shoulders shook.
For a second, he seemed to collapse.
Hyunjin called out softly. «Chan.»
Chan looked up. Bright. Broken. Alive.
«I’ll get you out of there.» Hyunjin’s voice was a thread, but a thread of steel.
Chan opened his mouth to reply, but the guard pulled him away.
«It’s time.»
Hyunjin remained still. His eyes bright. His heart shattered.
«I’ll save you this time…like you did to me…» he whispered.
The metal door closed behind Chan. The noise echoed through the hallway like a gunshot.
Hyunjin stood there, alone. His hands trembling. His breathing ragged.
10:15 AM, January 21st
Hyunjin's Apartment
HYUNJIN
Everyone was sitting. Everyone was silent. No one had slept. No one had gone to work. Phones were turned off.
The air was tense. An inhuman silence.
Hyunjin paced. «Chan is innocent.»
«How do you know?» Seungmin asked.
Hyunjin stopped.
«Because I was there.»
Silence.
«Adrian Blake killed our boss Richard Hale. He drugged Chan and put the knife in his hand. He planned everything so carefully, just because he wanted to be the boss of the company.»
«Why didn't you say nothing to the police?» Minho asked.
Hyunjin looked him in the eyes.
«Because he would have threatened us and hunted us down. If he killed my boss, he certainly wouldn't have had any problem killing eyewitnesses...»
A breath. A heartbeat.
«So what do we do?» Felix asked.
Hyunjin sat down.
«We'll get him out.»
«And how do you plan to do that?» Changbin asked.
Hyunjin looked at him and picked up the phone. He dialed a number.
«I have my contacts...»
He placed the call and it started ringing. After a few seconds, the person on the other side answered.
«I need your help...when can we meet?» Hyunjin's voice was impassive.
The others looked at him in confusion.
3:00 PM, May 20th.
Hyunjin's Apartment.
HYUNJIN
Four months had passed. Four months of silence, of waiting, of sleepless nights. Four months where they had barely heard from Chan. And during those four months, Hyunjin had worked day and night. The plan was ready.
Hyunjin's living room was lit only by a floor lamp.
Outside, New York was screaming as usual, but inside, the silence was painful.
Minho was standing, his hands in his hair, pacing like a caged animal.
Jisung was sitting on the couch, knees pulled up to his chest, his face buried in his hands.
Felix was shaking, his fingers fidgeting nervously with the hem of his sweatshirt.
Seungmin was staring at the table, motionless, as if trying not to explode.
Jeongin's eyes were watering, but he was trying not to show it.
Changbin was leaning against the wall, his arms folded, his jaw clenched.
Hyunjin was looking at them all.
«This is crazy!» Minho snapped, his voice shaking with rage. «Fucking crazy! You really want us to throw away our lives to go to that shitty prison?!»
«And what are we supposed to do, Minho?!» Jisung shouted, jumping up. «Watching Chan rot in there?!»
«I have a job!» Seungmin interrupted, his voice sharp. «I have kids counting on me! I can’t just disappear!»
«And me?» Felix wiped away a tear with the back of his hand. «I won’t survive a day in there… you know that!»
«And I have patients!» Jeongin clutched his chest, as if gasping for air. «Kids who trust me! I can’t abandon them!»
Changbin slammed his fist against the wall.
«And I risk my badge! I risk everything! If they catch me, my career is over!»
The voices overlapped.
Anger. Fear. Despair.
Hyunjin let them vent. He looked at them one by one, without saying a word.
Then he spoke. «Are you finished?»
His voice was low. Too low.
Everyone fell silent.
Hyunjin took a step forward. His eyes were shining, but hard as ice.
«You're talking about your lives...your jobs...your problems...»
He took a deep breath.
«And Chan?»
Silence.
«Chan, who helped me move on.»
He looked at Felix. «Chan, who got you that job when you wanted to give up everything.»
Felix looked down.
«Chan, who spent all night studying with you, Jisung, when you wanted to drop out of college.»
Jisung bit his lip, his eyes watering.
«Chan, who put in a good word for you to get you into Hospital...you remember that Minho?!...»
Minho closed his eyes, his breathing ragged.
«Chan, who paid your tuition, Jeongin, when you couldn't afford it.»
Jeongin put a hand to his mouth, holding back a sob.
«Chan, who covered for you, Seungmin, when you wanted to run away from home and had nowhere to go.»
Seungmin stiffened, his eyes shining.
«Chan, who believed in you, Changbin, when no one wanted you on the force.»
Changbin lowered his gaze, his jaw shaking.
Hyunjin stopped. He looked at them all.
«Chan sacrificed everything for us. Always. Without asking for anything in return.» His voice cracked. «And now you...you're arguing about whether it's worth risking something for him?»
A heavy silence fell over the room. A silence louder than any shout.
Hyunjin approached the table. He placed his hands on the prison plans.
«I'm not forcing you to do anything.» His voice was a whisper. «But I... I'm not leaving him in there. Not after everything he's done for us.»
He turned to them. «If you want to leave... go. But I will enter that prison. Alone, if I have to. And I will get him out, with or without your help...»
After an almost interminable silence, Minho was the first to speak. His voice was low, cracking. «You won't go alone.»
Then Seungmin. «I'm in.»
Felix nodded, wiping his eyes. «Me too.»
Jisung took a deep breath. «I'm scared... but I'm coming.»
Jeongin approached the table. «Chan doesn't deserve to be alone in this situation.»
Changbin took a step forward. «I'll open the doors for you. I'll help you in there...discreetly. I'll take you to him.»
Hyunjin closed his eyes.
A breath. A relief. A promise.
«Good,» he said. «Then let's work out the plan.»
And that night, around that table filled with papers, maps, and desperate hopes, seven boys decided to do the craziest, most dangerous, most loyal thing of their lives.
For Chan.
Just for him.
10:42 PM, May 28th.
Hyunjin's Apartment.
HYUNJIN
Hyunjin's apartment was now almost empty.
On the table remained only maps, scattered papers, cold coffee cups, and the echo of a decision that would change their lives.
One by one, the others left.
Minho first, his steps heavy. Then Seungmin, Jeongin, Jisung. Changbin had closed the door behind him with a silent nod.
Now there was only Felix. Sitting on the couch, his hands clasped, his gaze down.
Hyunjin noticed him. «Felix?» The voice was calm, but careful.
Felix bit his lip, then reached into his sweatshirt pocket.
He pulled out a small plastic bottle. Black hair dye.
Hyunjin looked at him, confused. «What is it?»
Felix turned it between his fingers, without looking up.
«It’s just…you know…» He swallowed hard.
Hyunjin came closer, sitting next to him. «…what?»
Felix inhaled slowly, as if he were about to confess a secret too big. «My hair.» His voice trembled. «In prison…they’ll laugh at me. They’ll target me…I don’t want that to happen…»
Hyunjin stared at him for a second.
Then he smiled, a small smile. «Felix…you don’t have to change who you are for anyone.»
Felix nodded, but he didn’t seem convinced.
His eyes shone with uncertainty. «I know…but…I want to…»
Hyunjin took the bottle from him.
He studied it for a moment, then stood up.
«Okay.» His voice was soft. «Come to the bathroom.»
Felix followed him silently.
───
The bathroom light was warm, dim.
Hyunjin turned on the sink, draped a towel over Felix's shoulders, and put on plastic gloves.
Felix sat on the edge of the tub, his hands on his knees, breathing shallowly.
«Are you sure?» Hyunjin asked, shaking the bottle.
Felix nodded. «Yes.»
Hyunjin began distributing the dye through his blonde locks. His fingers moved delicately, as if he were handling something fragile.
Felix closed his eyes.
«Hyunjin...?»
«Hm?»
«Do you think...we'll make it?»
Hyunjin paused for a second.
Then he resumed massaging the dye into his hair.
«Yes.» His voice was confident, firm. «Because we're not alone. And because Chan taught us to never give up.»
Felix smiled, a shy, almost childish smile. «Thank you, my friend...»
Hyunjin patted him lightly on the head. «You don't have to thank me. We're family.»
When he finished, Felix looked at himself in the mirror.
His hair was dark, shiny, completely different.
«Wow...» he murmured. «I look...like a different person.»
Hyunjin looked at him.
And that's when the idea came to him.
He looked at himself in the mirror.
His long, soft hair fell to his shoulders.
It was time for a change.
2:14 AM, May 29th
Hyunjin's Apartment
HYUNJIN
The city was asleep. Hyunjin wasn't.
He was sitting in front of the bathroom mirror, the fluorescent light flickering slightly above his head.
His hair fell to his shoulders, dark, soft, still wet from the shower.
He'd always worn it that way: long, unruly, a reminder of Seoul, of the orphanage, of her tucking it behind his ears when they were children.
That night, however, he couldn't afford it anymore.
On the sink were: sharp scissors and a photo of her and him as children, wedged between the mirror and the wall.
Hyunjin looked at her. He touched her with a finger. He inhaled slowly.
«I'm sorry...» His voice was a whisper.
Then he picked up the scissors. The first lock fell to the floor like a dark feather.
Hyunjin didn't blink.
The second.
The third.
Each cut was a blow to the chest. Each strand that fell was a piece of him he let go.
His hair slipped over his hands, down his neck, onto the cold floor.
The sound of the scissors filled the silence, rhythmic, almost ritualistic.
When he picked up the electric razor to define, he paused for a moment.
He looked at his reflection. He was no longer the boy he knew. He was no longer the boy from the orphanage. He was no longer the boy who promised her the world. He was a man who was about to commit a crime to save his brother.
He turned on the electric razor.
The buzzing filled the bathroom.
He adjusted some spots where the locks were slightly longer.
When he finished, he looked up. The reflection hit him like a punch.
Short hair. Hard gaze. Jaw clenched. Deep circles under his eyes.
He looked like a prisoner before he was one.
Hyunjin rested his hands on the sink, breathing hard. His muscular arms twitched with the effort.
───
Hyunjin sat at the kitchen table. The light was warm, soft.
He took a pen and paper. He wrote her name at the top.
His hand trembled slightly. Then he began:
I don't know where to begin. Maybe because I'm not writing to you to worry you, but to tell you the truth. A truth I can't tell anyone else. Chan was framed. They put him in prison for a murder he didn't commit. I was there. I saw it all. And I couldn't do anything. I know you'll think I should have spoken, testified, told the truth. But if I had… I wouldn't be here writing to you. And maybe you wouldn't be safe either.
I'll probably do something stupid. Something dangerous. Something that could keep me away from you longer than I ever wanted. But I'm doing this because Chan is my brother. Because without him, I wouldn't have become the man I am. Because I can't leave him in there.
I cut my hair tonight. I know it seems like a small thing, but for me, it's like cutting away everything I was before. The boy you knew. The kid who followed you everywhere. The one who made you laugh when you cried.
In three days, I'll enter a place no one wants to enter. But I'll do it to get him out.
I promise you only one thing...I'll come back.
No matter how long it takes. No matter how much I have to fight.
I'll come back to you.
And when I do...we'll run away together...I still remember that promise, yes. I'll take you wherever you want...
See you soon.
Yours,
Hyunjin.
Hyunjin folded the letter carefully. He slipped it into an envelope. He wrote her name on it, in slow, precise handwriting.
Then he left the house, carried it outside, to the mailbox on the street corner.
He put it in. He watched it fall.
And in that moment, he knew there was no turning back.
He would become a criminal. With a heavy heart. With a promise he would never break.
11:47 PM, May 30th.
“The Velvet Crane,” Lower Manhattan
HYUNJIN
The place was one of those places that don't exist on Google Maps.
Low lights, dark velvet, whiskey smelling of wood and smoke. Slow, almost hypnotic jazz filled the air.
Hyunjin entered with his hood up. His short hair fell over his forehead in uneven strands, still too new to feel like his own. He looked like a different person. Maybe he was.
Sitting in a private corner, with a glass of whiskey and a perfectly pressed dark coat, was Hwang Dae-Hyun. Broad shoulders, black suit, tattoos protruding from the collar of his shirt. Rough hands with clearly visible ink drawings.
The most powerful mafia boss in Seoul. The only man in the world besides Chan that Hyunjin truly respected.
When he saw him, Dae-Hyun smiled slightly.
«You've had a drastic haircut, Jinnie.» noticing the shorter hair.
Hyunjin sat down across from him, without removing his hood. «It was necessary, uncle.»
Dae-Hyun studied him for a few seconds, as if reading every detail of his face. «When a man cuts his hair like that...» He raised his glass. «...it means he's about to do something very important.»
Hyunjin gave a crooked smile. «Maybe...»
His uncle smiled mischievously. «Tell me everything...»
───
«Chan's been framed.» Hyunjin's voice was low, controlled. «He's in prison. And I have to get him out.»
Dae-Hyun didn't flinch. He wasn't a man who was easily surprised.
«And how do you plan to do that?»
«By going inside.»
His uncle raised an eyebrow.
«As a prisoner?»
«Yes. The boys and I are going to rob a bank and get arrested.»
Silence. Heavy. Dense.
Then Dae-Hyun smiled slowly. «You're truly your father's son.»
Hyunjin lowered his gaze for a moment. The name still hurt.
«I designed that prison, Chan and I. We know everything about that place. But...i need some things, though.» His voice sounded harder than expected. «Untraceable cell phones. Weapons. Contacts. An escape plane. Money. That kind of stuff. I know I'm asking a lot, but you're the only person who can help me.»
Dae-Hyun didn't ask why. He didn't ask how. He didn't ask when.
He just asked: «Who are you doing this for? For Chan...or for yourself?»
Hyunjin looked him in the eyes.
«For both of us.»
The man nodded slowly.
He picked up the phone and dialed a number. It was an old, untraceable phone.
He placed the call and put the phone to his ear.
«Yes...I need you to get everything out of vault 120 in New York...yes, it's quite urgent...deliver the guns to my nephew's apartment. I'll give you the details tomorrow.» He ended the call and looked back at his nephew.
«Are you sure about what you're doing?»
«Yes...»
Dae-Hyun smiled with satisfaction. «Well...you're as crazy as me after all...»
Hyunjin chuckled lightly.
───
For the first time since he'd entered, Hyunjin hesitated.
Dae-Hyun noticed immediately.
«Spit it out.»
Hyunjin ran a hand through his short hair.
A new, strange, almost painful gesture.
«She...» His voice came out like a whisper. «How is she?»
His uncle softened. Just a little.
«I'm keeping an eye on her in Seoul, like you asked.» He took a sip of the amber liquid. «She works at a middle school. She teaches drawing. She's good. Very good.»
Hyunjin closed his eyes for a second.
An image flashed through his mind: her sitting at a table, a piece of charcoal in her hand, her hair tied back, her sweet smile.
«Is she happy?» His voice trembled slightly.
Dae-Hyun looked at him with a tenderness he only showed to him. «She's...calm. But not happy.» Pause. «Not like when you were there.»
Hyunjin gripped his hand so tightly his knuckles shook. «I wrote her letters.»
«I know.» His uncle smiled. «I sent them all to her. Every single letter.»
Hyunjin took a deep breath. «When this is all over...I'll come back to her.»
Dae-Hyun nodded.
«I know.» Pause. «And she'll be waiting for you.»
Hyunjin nodded, stood up, and looked at the man sitting across from him.
«Thank you, uncle...for everything.»
Dae-Hyun stood up and approached his nephew. He placed a hand on his shoulder. «Don't thank me. Just do me a favor...»
His voice lowered.
«Come back alive.»
Hyunjin looked him in the eyes.
«I'll be back.»
───
Hyunjin left the bar. A light, cool breeze greeted him.
His heart was heavy. His mind was already in prison.
He stopped for a moment under the bar's sign. He looked at the sky between the skyscrapers. He thought of Chan, of the boys...of her.
His heart raced.
But he couldn't allow himself to think of her now; he had work to do.
And so he walked home.
PART 1 — PART 2 — PART 4
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© 2026 thereaderinyourmind (auroraackerman11), please don't claim my work.
PROLOGUE pt. 2
read the part 1
The snow fell like glass dust, carried by the wind between the skyscrapers. The neon lights reflected on the wet streets, transforming manhattan into a mosaic of cold colors. The city breathed, pulsed, ran. A city that never sleeps. But that night, someone would never wake up.
10:47 PM, January 20th.
NorthBridge Structural Group Offices, Midtown Manhattan.
CHAN
The thirty-eighth floor was immersed in a silence unlike any New York.
Through the windows, the city looked like an electrical circuit: lines of light, headlights, windows lit up like crazy synapses.
Bang Chan stepped out of the elevator, his coat still on.
The snow had soaked his hair, leaving small droplets that ran down his shirt collar. In his right hand, he clutched his black folder, bulging with documents: plans, calculations, revisions.
Weeks of work.
He swiped his badge.
Beep.
The door to the CEO's office opened.
«Richard?» he called, entering.
He took two steps.
He stopped.
The smell was the first thing: iron, metal, something warm and wrong in the air.
Then he saw.
Richard Hale was sitting in the chair, but his body was slumped in an unnatural pose.
His white shirt was stained red.
His head cocked to the side.
His eyes were glassy, staring into space.
And behind him, like a shadow that shouldn't have been there, was Adrian Blake.
The knife in his hand glistened in the cold office light.
Blood slowly trickled down the blade.
Adrian smiled.
A slow, controlled, almost elegant smile.
«It took you a while, Bahng.»
Chan felt his heart race, his breath hitch.
The folder slipped from his fingers.
The papers scattered across the polished floor like dirty snow.
«What the fuck did you do, Adrian?» his voice came out hoarse, cracked.
Adrian took a step forward, the knife still in his hand.
«What had to be done. The old man wouldn't give up the chair. And you...» he looked him up and down, like a predator studying his prey. «You were too perfect not to be ruined.»
Chan instinctively stepped back. «Are you crazy? Let's call the police, we can—»
But Adrian pinned him to the wall too quickly.
A sudden burning sensation in his neck.
A needle. A cold liquid entering his bloodstream.
Chan tried to fight it, but his legs gave out.
The world tilted, blurry, distant.
Adrian leaned over him, his voice a venomous whisper: «Easy, Chris. Starting tomorrow, you'll be the most famous man in New York.»
Then, darkness.
10:49 PM, January 20th.
38th Floor, Corridor of Northbridge.
HYUNJIN
Hyunjin was out of breath.
His back pressed against the cold wall.
His hands were shaking, not from fear: from anger.
He had followed Chan to the CEO's floor. He needed to ask him for clarification regarding Friday's deadlines.
But as soon as he heard Adrian's voice, he froze. He had stopped behind the fire door, leaving it ajar a few inches.
And he had seen everything. Richard Hale's body. The knife. Adrian's smile. The needle in Chan's neck.
Hyunjin bit his lip until he tasted blood.
Every fiber of his body screamed at him to come in, to jump on Adrian, to smash his face into the desk.
But clarity—that damned clarity—held him back.
Adrian wasn't just a colleague. He was a man with connections, money, power.
Hyunjin watched helplessly as Adrian ran down the hallway and called the police.
Chan was lying next to Richard, the bloody knife in his hands.
A perfect crime scene.
Hyunjin clenched his fists until they hurt.
«Bastard...» he whispered.
In the distance, a siren. He couldn't stay there.
He ran down the stairs, his heart in his throat, with only one certainty: Chan was screwed.
And he, Hwang Hyunjin, had just seen it all.
And he couldn't tell anyone.
10:55 PM, January 20th.
In front of the Northbridge building.
CHANGBIN
Snow was falling heavily in front of the NorthBridge entrance.
The blue lights of the patrol cars illuminated the street like intermittent flashes, reflecting off the puddles and the glass of the building.
Changbin stepped out of the police van with a heavy step.
He was wearing his uniform, his bulletproof vest, his radio on his belt.
He had been called in as backup for a "high-risk" arrest. He still didn't know who the suspect was.
He didn't even imagine it.
He approached the security cordon, his eyes alert, his posture rigid. He was focused, professional, as always.
Then he saw him. Bang Chan. His Chan.
Handcuffed. His head down. His shirt dirty of blood. His eyes staring into space.
Two officers dragged him toward the patrol car, while reporters shouted questions and flashbulbs exploded like bullets of light.
Changbin froze.
His breath caught in his throat.
«...Chan?» The word barely came out, a whisper no one heard.
The world seemed to slow down. The noise became muffled. The lights grew colder.
Chan looked up. For a moment, their eyes met.
And Changbin felt something inside him collapse.
It wasn't just shock. It wasn't just fear. It was helplessness.
Raw. Violent. Devastating.
A colleague approached him. It was one of his subordinates.
«Sir, are you okay?» Changbin didn't answer. He couldn't.
«Sir, we need to contain the crowd...»
Changbin nodded slightly, but his eyes never left Chan. Every step his friend took toward the patrol car was a blow to the chest.
Chan tried to speak, but a guard pushed him into the car. The door slammed shut.
Changbin took a step forward, but the car had already left. Headed for the police station. He clenched his jaw and turned to his subordinate.
«Henry, I have to go. I had an emergency and I need to rush home. Call the others and bring backup...»
«Yes, sir.» The boy didn't ask any questions and grabbed the walkie-talkie.
Changbin headed for his car. He grabbed his phone and tried to call Hyunjin. He didn't answer.
«Hyunjin, answer the damn thing!» He started the car and drove to Hyunjin's apartment.
11:43 PM, January 20th.
Minho's Apartment
MINHO
The bottle slipped from his fingers and shattered on the floor. He didn't even notice.
«…Murder…Fight…Mr. Bahng killed the CEO of Northbridge…» the guy on the news said.
Too much information, all at once.
Minho laughed. A short, incredulous, bitter laugh.
«What the fuck are you talking about?…»
The phone vibrated incessantly. Everyone was asking the same question.
He had sent the message to Jisung.
But Minho dialed a single number.
Hyunjin.
11:45 PM, January 20th.
Jisung's Apartment
JISUNG
Jisung was grading some papers, the TV on just for company.
The ramen on the table was now cold.
He wasn't really listening until he heard the name.
«Breaking news: Engineer Christopher Bahng arrested for murder...»
The pen fell from his hand.
«...what the fuck...?»
Chan appeared on the monitor, handcuffed, being escorted out of the building. His face was lost, confused, as if he weren't really there.
Jisung felt his chest tighten.
The phone vibrated.
Minho: "Turn on the news. Now."
But he had already seen it all.
11:47 PM, January 20th.
Felix's Apartment
FELIX
Felix was on the couch, his laptop on his lap.
The controller fell from his hands when he saw Chan handcuffed on the TV screen.
«Hyung...?»
His eyes filled with tears.
«It's not possible...he would never-»
His phone vibrated incessantly, but he didn't have the courage to look at it right now.
He was shocked.
11:50 PM, January 20th.
Seungmin's Apartment
SEUNGMIN
Seungmin watched the report until the end.
Every word. Every image.
Then he turned off the TV.
Chan couldn't have done something like that...
He seemed calm.
He stopped. He inhaled. He trembled.
Then he exploded.
With a sudden, violent kick, he hit the coffee table in the living room. The wood toppled, his legs slammed against the floor, a cup fell and shattered into a thousand pieces.
«Fuck!» he shouted, his voice coming out broken, almost a sob.
He bent forward, hands on his knees, his chest rising and falling as if he'd been running for miles. He sank onto the couch, his head in his hands.
His shoulders were shaking. He ran his hands over his face and sighed.
«Okay. This is shit. But this is shit that can be fixed.»
He texted Hyunjin.
11:52 PM, January 20th.
Jeongin's Apartment
JEONGIN
Jeongin was in bed.
When he saw the name "Christopher Bahng" his blood ran cold.
«Hyung?» He was shocked.
Chan is a good man; he respected his boss. He didn't even care about the CEO position.
He got out of bed and quickly dressed.
He texted Hyunjin with shaking hands.
11:56 PM, January 20th.
Hyunjin's Apartment
HYUNJIN
Sitting on the floor of his apartment, his phone vibrating incessantly.
He didn't need the TV. He'd seen everything.
His phone had been ringing for hours. He hadn't answered anyone.
At that moment, however, he answered the call from Minho.
«Tell me it's not true...» Minho says.
«It's true.»
Pause.
«But it's not what it seems.» Then he continue. «He'll be questioned tonight, and the trial will be tomorrow....Gather everyone and have them come to me...now.» Hyunjin hung up, and the phone fell from his hands. He didn't bother picking it up.
He turned on the TV.
He saw Chan in handcuffs.
His throat tightened.
«I'll get you out of there, Hyung. I'll find a way. I swear.»
PART 1 - PART 3 - PART 4
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© 2026 thereaderinyourmind (auroraackerman11), please don't claim my work.
PROLOGUE pt. 1
This story unfolds within walls that leave no escape, where time weighs heavily and emotions become more acute.
Walls that imprison the body but not the heart.
There are painful waits, words that don't come, looks that confuse.
Here, every emotion weighs twice as much: fear is sharper, sweetness rarer, love more dangerous.
There are silences that wound, gestures that save, and feelings that blossom where they shouldn't.
Those sensitive to mature themes, psychological tension, slow romance and moments of unexpected tenderness, are invited to proceed with awareness.
7:30 AM, January 20th.
NorthBridge Structural Group Offices, Midtown Manhattan.
CHAN
The elevator opens with a metallic clang, and Chan enters the still-nearly empty corridor of the executive floor.
He walks down the executive floor corridor with a stride meant to appear confident, but his body betrays him: slightly hunched shoulders, slow breathing, eyes lined by a night too long.
He's not wearing a jacket; he left it on his office chair hours earlier. The sleeves of his white shirt are rolled up to the elbows, revealing tense forearms, crisscrossed by clearly visible veins.
The fabric is a little creased, like him.
The top button is undone, not for style, but for air. On his wrist, the stainless steel watch shows a time that shouldn't belong to a man who hasn't slept.
The room is still bathed in that milky early morning light, when the sun hasn't decided whether to shine or stay out. He holds a black folder under his arm filled with documents he's checked at least three times.
He holds it tightly as if it contains something extremely fragile.
After a few steps, he reaches his destination.
He raises his hand and knocks twice on his boss's door.
«Come in.»
Chan enters. The smell of strong coffee and fresh paper greets him.
His boss, Richard Hale, CEO of NorthBridge, sits behind the desk, glasses perched on his nose, his expression stern but not hostile.
«Good morning, Sir.»
«Good morning to you too, Chris. What do you have for me?»
Chan places the folder on the table and opens it with a precise gesture.
«These are the updated documents for the new building complex. I've reviewed the deadlines, recalculated the costs of materials, and verified the availability of workers for the start of construction.»
The boss flips through the pages, then looks at him over his glasses.
«You've been working all night, Chris.»
Chan breathes in slowly, as if trying to hide his fatigue.
«I wanted everything ready by this morning.»
The man shakes his head in exasperation and slowly flips through the pages.
«Has the cement supplier confirmed the timeline?» he asks without looking up.
«Yes. I spoke to them last night. We can start within two weeks.»
The boss nods, then looks up at Chan.
«And the workers?»
«Already assigned. I've prepared a list with shifts and skills. You'll find it in the last section.»
Silence.
The boss closes the folder and pushes it gently toward him.
«Great job, Chris. As always.»
Chan doesn't really smile, but his eyes do.
«Thank you, sir.»
He closes the folder and picks it up.
«Now go home and rest. You've been working like a madman for three nights straight...»
«But sir, i have to go to the sports center to check on the construction site—»
The man immediately interrupted him good-naturedly.
«You'll go this afternoon. The workers know what to do. You've done enough for now...you're not a robot, you're a human being. You need rest too...please.» says the middle-aged man.
Chan often stayed late at the office, even staying until the next day. The staff were now well acquainted with his habits.
«Okay, sir, i'll take your advice.»
The man smiled and nodded happily.
«Go on, son, i don't want to take up any more of your time...but before you go, stop by Hyunjin's office and compliment him on the floor plan he sent me yesterday. That boy is quite good with a pencil.»
Chan smiled at those words.
Oh yes, Hyunjin really knew how to use a pencil.
«Sure, have a good day.»
When he leaves the office, he pauses for a moment in the hallway.
He takes a deep breath, as if trying to free himself of an invisible burden.
He heads to the coffee maker on the floor and makes a coffee to take to Hyunjin.
He's probably stayed in the office to finish his work...
7:46 AM, January 20th
NorthBridge Structural Group Offices, Midtown Manhattan.
HYUNJIN
Hyunjin's office is a perfectly organized chaos: scattered papers, sharpened pencils, metal rulers, sketches hanging on the walls like works of art.
He is bent over the drawing table, wearing a soft white shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. The fabric slides naturally over him, revealing his slender yet defined forearms.
He wears elegant black pants, comfortable enough to allow him to move freely as he shifts from one sheet of paper to another.
His hair, slightly disheveled, falls in front of his eyes, and every now and then he brushes it back with a slow, almost distracted gesture.
Morning light streams in through the large windows and illuminates the drawing table where Hyunjin is bent over, headphones in his ears, his pencil gliding across the paper with an almost natural grace.
He is redesigning the main entrance to the complex.
Soft lines, precise curves, notes written in elegant handwriting.
A light knock makes him look up.
Chan is in the doorway, a steaming cup of coffee in his hand.
«Good morning, i see you've been up late too...» he says, entering with an amused smile.
He places the cardboard cup carefully on the desk, without making a mess.
Hyunjin removes an earbud and smiles slightly.
«Thanks, Hyung. You know, staying up all night reviewing tables has its benefits.» he says, taking his coffee slowly and carefully.
He blows lightly on the surface and takes a slow sip. As soon as the liquid touches his tongue, a satisfied sound escapes him.
«I still can't believe you don't drink coffee. With the work we do...without coffee, i could die...»
Chan chuckles.
«I told you, i don't like the taste.»
«What if you add sugar to it? Would you like it?» he asks curiously.
«No, i prefer water.»
Hyunjin smiles exasperatedly as he takes another sip of coffee.
«How are the floor plans going?»
The architect sets his cup on the desk and shows him the sheet he was working on.
«I'm sorting out the layout. I want the entryway to have more natural light.»
Chan observes carefully and then he smiles satisfied.
«Richard told me yesterday he wants to see everything by friday. And also, he liked your work that you emailed him yesterday. He really liked it.»
Hyunjin lowers his gaze, a satisfied smile touching his lips. «I had no doubts.»
Chan laughs softly.
«Arrogant.»
«I'm just being realistic.»
Chan shakes his head amusedly and leans against the table.
«I was thinking…this weekend we could all have dinner together. You, me, and the others. It's been a while since we've all seen each other. Work always keeps us busy.»
Hyunjin looks up, surprised but happy.
«I'm in.»
Chan nods, satisfied.
«Perfect. Then i'll organize.»
«Well, after i'm done here, i'll take a break. I'm going home to rest. I'll be back here tonight to finish the other projects.»
«Yes, I'm going home too. Richard made me, he said i have to rest.» he says, rubbing his eyes slowly.
«Hyung's right, you work too much...you need to rest.»
«Yes, but you need it too...» he says, gently scolding him.
«Not as much as you...now go, otherwise you'll distract me and i won't be able to finish the work.»
He picks up his pencil and ruler, continuing to draw.
Chan chuckles and turns to leave.
«Okay, see you tonight.»
«Bye.»
8:10 AM, January 20th.
Rikers Island Jail
CHANGBIN
The penitentiary is a place that never sleeps.
The fluorescent lights are always on, the hallways always filled with noise: footsteps, keys, slamming metal doors, voices bouncing off the walls.
Changbin enters his office with a tense expression.
He's already had a difficult morning.
«Hey, are you okay?» a colleague asks.
«No» Changbin replies without thinking. «Two inmates decided that this morning was the perfect time to start a fight. And one even tried to challenge me.»
The colleague whistles.
«Again?»
«Again.»
Changbin rubs the back of his neck, then sits at his desk. He opens a file, leafs through it, and makes a note.
Every now and then he sighs, irritated.
An inmate passes by in the hallway and makes a provocative remark.
Changbin looks up, his eyes hard.
«Do you want another disciplinary report? Or maybe you want me to extend your sentence for a few more years?» he says in a low, controlled voice.
The inmate immediately falls silent and is led back to his cell.
Changbin returns to his papers.
He's tired, stressed, irritated.
But he chose this job; it gives him an unnatural pleasure to see criminals behind bars.
9:32 AM, January 20th
Harlem Hospital Center
MINHO
The operating room is bathed in white, almost unreal light.
The air is cold, controlled, and the regular beeping of the machines sets a rhythm that feels like a metronome on everyone's nerves.
Minho enters last, as always.
The automatic door hisses shut behind him.
He's wearing a sterile gown, a mask, his hair tucked under a cap.
Only his eyes are visible: dark, focused, sharp like a freshly sharpened blade.
«Good morning, everyone.» he says in a calm voice as he approaches the operating table.
It's not a greeting: it's a signal.
The beginning.
The patient is already ready, monitored, asleep.
The operation is delicate: a cerebral vascular malformation, one of those that leaves no room for error.
Minho pauses for a moment, surveying the operating field like a general studying a war map.
Then he holds out his hand. «Scalpel.»
The nurse hands it to him immediately.
His fingers don't tremble.
They never tremble.
Minho begins to work with small, precise, almost elegant movements.
Every gesture is pure concentration and experience.
«Dr. Lee...» says one of the young specialists «the blood pressure is stable.»
«Good» Minho replies without looking away. «Monitor it every ten seconds. Not every thirty. Every ten. I want margin.»
The boy nods, a little tense.
Minho notices.
«Breathe.» he murmurs, still without raising his voice. «If you tense up, you'll miss the details. And details are everything.»
Then he continues operating.
«Bipolar forceps.»
The nurse hands it to him.
Minho uses it with a delicacy that contrasts with the tension in the room.
«Dr. Smith...» he says, turning to another assistant, «I want you to look at this. See this bifurcation? This is where many people go wrong. You don't have to follow the obvious line. You have to follow the most logical one.»
The assistant approaches, holding his breath.
«Understood, Doctor.»
Minho sighs softly.
«Don't tell me you understand. Tell me what you see.»
The assistant swallows.
«The bifurcation... it's deeper than it looks. The lateral vein is more fragile. If we touch it, we risk a hemorrhage.»
Minho nods.
«Exactly. Now shut up and watch.»
He continues working, his hands steady, his breathing slow.
The room is silent except for the beeping of the machines and the faint sound of the instruments.
«Suction.»
«Yes, Doctor.»
«Come on, guys.» Minho says, with that calmness that's more authority than kindness. «This isn't an operation. It's a balance. And we're the ones who mustn't let it fall apart.»
Long, tense minutes pass, but Minho never loses control.
Every now and then he tilts his head, observes, evaluates, decides.
It's like watching an artist paint a picture that no one can afford to mess up.
Finally, after one last precise gesture, he steps away from the table.
«It's done.»
The assistants breathe a sigh of relief.
Minho removes his gloves with a fluid, almost elegant movement.
«Now cover the patient, take him back to his room and when he wakes up, call me immediately.» he says.
Then he adds, in a lower tone:
«And remember one thing: you're not here to be good. You're here to be reliable. Being good is a luxury. Reliability is not.»
He turns toward the door and leaves.
The operating room door closes behind him with a soft, almost muffled sound.
Minho pauses for a moment in the sterile corridor, letting the warmer air touch his sweaty skin beneath his cap.
He slowly removes his mask, revealing a tense face, his cheekbones slightly red from the effort, his eyes still focused, as if the surgery wasn't truly over.
He walks toward the filter area, his steps silent, measured.
Every movement is controlled, but his body betrays profound tiredness: his shoulders stiff, his back seemingly carrying an invisible weight.
He washes his hands with automatic, almost ritualistic gestures. The water runs over his fingers, washing away the sweat, but not the tension.
«Doctor, the surgery went very well.»
A young nurse smiles at him, trying to lighten the mood.
Minho nods slightly.
«I know.»
It's not arrogance.
It's awareness.
It's responsibility.
He dries his hands, then removes his cap. His hair falls to his forehead, slightly damp.
He runs a hand through his locks, as if to restore order within himself.
An assistant approaches, still emotional.
«Doctor...that bifurcation was really complex. I don't know how you—»
Minho interrupts him with a calm wave of his hand.
«It's not a question of how. It's a matter of not making mistakes.»
The assistant lowers his gaze, respectfully.
Minho sighs softly, then adds:
«Remember this: security doesn't come from trust. It comes from the fear of losing someone. It's what keeps you awake. It's what makes you precise.»
The assistant nods, impressed.
Minho turns, ready to leave.
But before taking a step, he leans against the wall for a moment.
Just a second.
A second that no one notices.
His breathing slows, deepens.
His eyes close.
And the thought comes, inevitable, like a whisper he can't ignore:
Every life I save...reminds me of how many I could lose.
He opens them again.
His expression becomes impenetrable, professional, perfect.
He pushes himself away from the wall and starts walking again. His figure recedes along the sterile corridor, straight and composed, but with a thin shadow trailing behind him.
A shadow no one sees.
A shadow he always feels.
10:15 AM, January 20th.
George Washington Educational Campus
JISUNG
The music room is already alive when Jisung enters, with his usual light gait.
The door closes behind him and the sound of the instruments hits him like a wave: guitars out of tune, drums beaten mercilessly, laughter, chatter, a chaos that would be unbearable for anyone.
For anyone but him.
Jisung puts his bag on the floor, runs a hand through his hair, and smiles.
A real smile, the kind that lights up his eyes.
«Okay, guys...» he says, clapping his hands once, loudly. «Let's pretend this is a civilized place.»
The students laugh.
It's always like this: he enters, and the atmosphere changes.
Jisung takes a guitar from the stand, lifts it delicately, as if it were a precious object.
He tunes it with quick, confident movements, then plays a short sequence of chords, soft and clean, that fills the room like a caress.
«This is today's rhythm. Listen, don't memorize. Feel it.»
The students fall silent.
It's amazing how he manages to capture their attention without raising his voice.
Jisung walks between the desks, watching the students' hands on the strings.
«You...» he says, pointing to a boy who is pressing too hard. «Not only are you hurting yourself, but you're hurting the guitar's feelings.»
The boy looks at him, confused, almost amused.
«But guitars don't have feelings...»
«Oh yeah, think about it for a second. Pretend that guitar is a girl...if you pluck the right strings, a perfect melody will come out, but if you pluck the wrong ones, well, she'll give you a hard time...and trust me, i know what that means...»
His students chuckle, and he smiles.
«Your fingers should be light, not heavy.»
He gently takes his hand and adjusts his fingers one by one.
The boy blushes slightly but nods and begins to play the correct melody.
«Better?» asks Jisung.
«Yes, professor.»
«Nah don't call me professor, it makes me feel old.» he says jokingly.
The students laugh at his statement.
Jisung smiles, but then turns serious, focused.
He approaches a girl who has been playing an out-of-tune note for five minutes.
He doesn't say anything.
He kneels beside her, takes her hand, and guides it across the strings.
«Like this. Slowly. Breathe. Music isn't about rushing...it's about expressing yourself through it.»
The girl looks at him, surprised by the sweetness of his statement.
Jisung stands up, runs a hand over the back of his neck, a little embarrassed.
«Okay, now everyone together. One, two...and three.»
The class starts.
It's not perfect.
It's not even close to perfect.
But Jisung smiles anyway.
Because he feels something warming in his chest: the passion, the growth, the life vibrating in the wrong notes of his students.
He walks among them, corrects, encourages, jokes, pauses, listens.
Every now and then he closes his eyes, letting himself be carried away by the imperfect melody.
And in a moment of pause, while the students laugh at a wrong chord, Jisung leans against the piano and thinks:
If i could stop time, I'd stop it here. In this room. In this chaos that makes me feel alive.
Then he straightens up and claps his hands again.
«Okay, break over! Let's start again. And this time...let's try not to destroy the harmony of the universe.»
Laughter.
Guitars start again.
The music fills the classroom again.
And Jisung, at the center of it all, smiling, unaware that that morning, so ordinary, so full of life...will be one of the last before everything changes.
10:30 AM, January 20th.
New York Capital Technologies
YONGBOK (FELIX)
Felix's office is a small universe that thrives on its own light.
The large window lets in a soft sun, which settles on the scattered papers as if illuminating them one by one.
There are Post-it notes everywhere: yellow, pink, green, with notes written in a slanted, rapid, almost anxious hand.
Three cups of coffee: one full, one half-full, one already cold. They describe his morning better than any words.
Felix sits at his desk, hunched over his computer.
His back is slightly hunched, his shoulders relaxed but not too much. His eyes, dark and focused, skim across the screen with a speed unlike anyone else's. His fingers move across the keyboard as if playing a piano.
He's developing a new program.
A complex function, full of variables that don't want to cooperate.
«Okay...if i implement this logic...» he mutters to himself, unaware that he's speaking aloud.
He pauses for a second.
He tilts his head.
His eyes narrow.
Then he starts typing again, faster, more decisively.
The phone vibrates.
Felix looks at it, sighs, and answers without taking his hands off the keyboard.
«Hey...yes, I checked the data. Yes, the revision too. No, I haven't slept much...»
Pause.
A tired smile softens his face.
«I know I shouldn't, but when I have an idea, I can't just leave it there.»
He listens, nods, then ends the call with, «Okay, we'll catch up.»
He puts the phone on the table and massages the back of his neck. His fingers slide through his slightly tousled blonde hair.
He has light circles under his eyes, but they don't detract from his vision: in fact, they give him the look of a boy who thrives on ideas rather than sleep.
He gets back to work.
The code scrolls across the screen like a secret language only he understands.
Every now and then he stops, drums his fingers on the table, then starts again.
It's a rhythm all his own: thought, pause, intuition, explosion.
An error appears in red.
Felix huffs, but doesn't get angry.
He smiles, as if it were a personal challenge.
«Ah, you really want to make my morning difficult, huh?» he mutters to the monitor.
He reopens a window, checks a function, corrects a missing parenthesis.
Then he presses "run."
The program starts.
It works.
Felix slumps back, raising his arms in a gesture of silent victory.
«Yes!» he says softly, a smile lighting up his entire face.
He gets up, stretches, and walks to the window. He looks outside: the city bustles, alive, noisy, far from his little world of computer code and coffee.
And as he gazes at the clear sky, a thought crosses his mind, light but sudden:
I wonder if one day all this will actually be useful to someone.
It's not sadness.
It's a sincere, fragile question, born from the heart.
Then he shakes his head, returns to his desk, and gets back to work.
Because that's Felix's nature: when the world is too big, he reduces it to lines of code he can control.
His calm is almost meditative.
It's as if he can find light even in the most monotonous things.
10:45 AM, January 20th.
The Baseball Center NYC
SEUNGMIN
The baseball field is already alive when Seungmin arrives.
The morning air is fresh and crisp, and the sun illuminates the ground with a golden light that sparkles in the dust raised by the boys' footsteps.
He walks along the sideline with his whistle in his hand, his posture straight, his gaze attentive.
He wears a dark blue sweatshirt, the sleeves rolled up to his forearms, and black workout pants. His hair is slightly tousled by the wind, but he doesn't care: he's in his element.
The school had given him that day to train the boys' baseball team.
«Boys, get ready!» he picks up his New York Yankees cap and puts it on.
His voice is clear, firm, not too loud.
He doesn't need to shout: they listen because they respect him.
The students line up on the field, some still sleepy, others already pumped. Seungmin watches them one by one, as if he can read their energy just by the way they hold their gloves.
«I swear, if you don't win the next school game... I'll kick your ass even harder at the next practice. Am I clear?»
«Yes, Coach.»
He whistles.
The sound cuts through the air.
«Passes! I want precision, not power. Power comes later.»
The boys begin to throw the ball back and forth.
Some do well, others... less so.
Seungmin walks among them, hands behind his back, his gaze alert.
He stops next to a boy who keeps receiving the ball late.
«Stop.» He gently takes his wrist, adjusts the position of his fingers.
«Look at my hand. Not the ball. My hand. Follow the movement, don't anticipate it.»
The boy nods, focused.
Seungmin tosses him the ball.
This time he catches it.
«Better.» Seungmin says, and the boy smiles as if he's won a game.
He continues down the field and stops next to two students arguing.
«Problems?» he asks, not harshly, but with the calm that keeps everyone in line.
«He says i run too slow.» one mutters.
Seungmin sighs.
«You're not here to compete with each other. You're here to compete with yourselves.»
Then he adds, with a half-smile: «And yes, you run slow. But we're working on it.»
The boys laugh, the tension easing.
Seungmin blows his whistle again. «Reception speed! I want rhythm. One, two, three... go!»
The ball begins to move from one player to the other, quickly, precisely.
Seungmin paces back and forth, checking the timing, correcting the postures, urging, calling, encouraging.
Every now and then he stops, observing the court from the sidelines.
The wind stirs his sweatshirt, the sun warms his face.
And for a moment, just a moment, he allows himself a thought:
I wish they could understand how proud I am of them, even when they make mistakes.
Then he shakes his head, turns serious, and whistles again.
«Last lap! And I want it to be the best!»
The boys give it their all, running, catching, throwing.
The ball flies, the pace increases, the energy rises.
And Seungmin, at the center of it all, feels that sensation he only gets here: the certainty of being exactly where he's supposed to be.
11:15 AM, January 20th.
Healthy Minds NYC
JEONGIN
Jeongin's office is a small refuge from the rest of the world.
The walls are painted in soft colors, a light green that's easy on the eyes. The shelves are lined with psychology books, as well as stuffed animals, board games and building blocks. On the soft carpet in the center of the room, a low table with papers and colored pencils.
The light from the window streams in gently, without being intrusive.
Jeongin sits in a low armchair, facing an equally low chair.
There's no desk between him and the child: just space.
He wears a simple white shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his forearms, and comfortable dark pants.
On his wrist, a discreet watch.
His appearance is neat, but not formal: he wants to appear approachable, not distant.
Across from him, Connor, a boy of about ten, clutches a stuffed animal. A small lion.
The fingers grip it tightly, as if it were an anchor.
«Is it okay if we talk about what made you angry this week?» Jeongin asks in a calm, soft, unhurried voice.
The boy looks up for a second, then looks down again. He nods slowly.
Jeongin smiles, but not exaggeratedly.
A small, reassuring smile.
«You don't have to tell me everything right away,» he adds. «We can start with a little bit. Whatever comes easiest to you.»
The boy plays with the ear of the stuffed lion.
«At school...» he murmurs. «They laughed at me.»
Jeongin doesn't interrupt him.
He tilts his head slightly, his eyes attentive, present.
«Why did they laugh at you?» he asks after a few seconds, delicately.
«Because...I read wrong in front of the class.»
The boy's voice trembles a little.
«My words got stuck. And they laughed. Even though the teacher told them to stop.»
Jeongin inhales slowly.
He doesn't get angry, he doesn't comment right away. He leaves space.
«And how did you feel?» he asks, choosing his words carefully.
The boy clutches the stuffed animal even tighter.
«As if…I were stupid.»
Jeongin shifts slightly forward in his chair, resting his forearms on his knees.
His voice becomes even lower.
«Can I tell you something?» he asks.
The boy looks up, uncertain but curious. He nods.
«Missing a word doesn't make you stupid. It makes you human.»
He pauses briefly, then adds: «And you know what I think? That it takes a lot more courage to read in front of everyone…than to laugh at someone who tries.»
The boy looks at him, his eyes a little watery.
«But they laughed anyway.»
«I know.» Jeongin replies, without minimizing it. «And that hurts. It's right that you say it. It's right that you're angry.»
He picks up a sheet of paper from the table and a crayon. He hands them to him.
«Do you want to draw how you felt in that moment? It doesn't have to be beautiful. It has to be real.»
The boy hesitates, then puts the stuffed animal beside him and picks up the crayon. He begins to draw something dark, confusing, full of broken lines.
Jeongin watches him silently.
Every now and then he nods, as if listening to a story told in colors rather than words.
«It looks like... a tangle.» he says softly, when the boy stops. «A tangle that's holding you tight.»
The boy nods.
«Yes.»
«Okay.» Jeongin continues. «Now let's do something together. Let's try to draw, next to this tangle, something that makes you feel a little better.»
He takes the box of crayons and hands it to Connor.
«What color do you choose for something that makes you feel a little better?»
The boy thinks about it, then picks a blue one.
He draws a small figure next to the tangle.
«Who is it?» asks Jeongin, with a faint smile.
«The teacher.» the boy replies. «Because she told me it wasn't serious.»
Jeongin nods, his eyes soft.
«It made you feel less alone.»
«A little.»
«And now...» Jeongin continues, «if you could say something to that you who was reading in front of the class...what would you say?»
The boy thinks about it for a long time.
Then, in a low voice, he says: «I would tell him... that it's okay to make mistakes. That he shouldn't be ashamed.»
Jeongin feels a tightness in his chest, but he doesn't show it.
He simply smiles, a proud light in his eyes.
«That's a very important thing to say.» he murmurs. «And you know what? I'd say it to him too.»
He leans back, letting silence settle between them, but it's a good silence, full, not awkward.
Then he adds, calmly: «Here, with me, you can make mistakes as many times as you want. I will never judge you for it. We'll use every mistake to get to know you better. Not to make you feel worse.»
The boy nods, clutching the stuffed animal again, but this time less tightly.
His shoulders are a little less stiff.
His gaze is a little less heavy.
Jeongin watches him and thinks, without saying it: If I could, I'd put a shield between you and the world. But for now... I'll teach you how to build it yourself.
He looks at the clock, but not impatiently.
Time flows differently in here.
«We can stop here for today,» he says sweetly. «You did a great job, I'm proud of you.»
The boy nods, smiling, gets up, and picks up the stuffed animal.
Before leaving, he turns around for a moment.
«Can I... take the drawing home?» he asks.
Jeongin smiles.
«Of course. It's yours.»
«Thank you, Mr. Yang.» the boy says with a smile.
Jeongin chuckles lightly.
«You can call me Jeongin. Mr. Yang makes me feel really old. I'm still young.» his tone is playful and exudes calm.
Connor chuckles and nods, running slowly toward the door.
When the door closes, the studio falls silent again.
Jeongin sits for a few seconds, looking at where the boy was sitting.
On the table, the blue crayon is still open, as if the boy might return at any moment to draw something else.
Jeongin inhales slowly, letting the tension slide off his shoulders.
Then he stands up, straightens his shirt, gathers the papers from the session, and carefully places them back in the folder.
A light knock on the door.
«Come in.» he says calmly.
The child's mother, Sarah, enters with an uncertain step.
She's clutching a bag, her fingers fidgeting with the zipper. Her eyes immediately search Jeongin's, as if needing a firm foundation.
«How...how did it go?» she asks, her voice low, almost fearful.
Jeongin gestures for her to sit.
She sits down in the chair, but remains rigid, as if afraid of receiving bad news.
He sits across from her, maintaining the same open and reassuring posture he uses with the children.
«It went well.» he begins, with a slight smile. «Today he talked about what happened at school. He was very brave.»
Sarah and her husband had recently separated because of his infidelity. Connor understood this and couldn't accept it. He saw his mother suffer, and in turn, he suffered. That's why Sarah had decided to take him to Jeongin. She'd heard so many positive things about him. He had a reassuring way of interacting with children and teenagers. He's the kind of person who makes you feel at ease just by looking at you.
Sarah lowers her gaze, biting her lip.
«He hardly says anything to me at home. I'm afraid...that he's suffering more than he wants me to see.»
Jeongin tilts his head, observing her carefully.
«It's normal. Sometimes children don't want to worry their parents. But here he opened up. He expressed anger, sadness...and even a little relief.»
The woman inhales slowly, as if she's been holding back an emotion for too long.
«Did he say... something about me?» she asks, her voice faint.
Jeongin smiles, a non-judgmental smile.
«He drew a blue figure next to the tangle that represented his fear. It was the teacher. But that doesn't mean he doesn't trust you. It means she was there in that moment, and he perceived it as immediate help.»
The mother nods, her eyes shining.
«I wish... I wish i could be that figure.»
Jeongin leans forward slightly, his hands clasped between his knees.
«You will be.» he says with a confidence that isn't presumption, but experience. «It takes time. And perseverance. But he looks at you more than you think. And he leans on you more than he tells you.»
The mother wipes away a tear with the back of her hand.
«Sometimes I'm afraid I'm making a mistake.»
«All parents make mistakes.» Jeongin replies softly. «The difference is who tries to understand, who stays, who listens. And you're doing all of that.»
She takes a deep breath, as if those words have lifted a weight from her chest.
«Is there anything I can do... concretely?» she asks.
Jeongin nods.
«Yes. When he comes home, don't ask him right away how it went. Wait. Let him choose the moment. And when he speaks...don't correct him, don't downplay him. Listen to him. Even if he says things that hurt you.»
Sarah nods slowly, absorbing every word.
«And one more thing...» Jeongin adds. «Tell him you're proud of him. Not for what he does. But for who he is.»
The woman smiles, a shaky but sincere smile.
«Thank you, really. I don't know what I'd do without your help.»
Jeongin shakes his head politely.
«You don't have to thank me. It's my job.»
Sarah stands up, lighter than when she came in.
Before leaving, she turns around one last time.
«Can I ask you a question?»
«Sure, tell me.»
Sarah hesitates but then smiles amusedly.
«You're really young to be a doctor. You could be my son...are you engaged?»
Jeongin's eyes widen slightly. He blushes slightly and smiles awkwardly.
«Not really, but I'd like to one day...For now, I'm focusing on helping others.»
Sarah chuckles and shakes her head.
«Boys your age usually think about having fun.»
He smiles sincerely, the blush still on his cheeks.
«Well, knows business first, then pleasure. I've been taught that way.» he says, scratching the back of his neck lightly.
«Sounds fair, then...Goodbye, Doctor.»
«Goodbye...» he greets the woman kindly as she leaves his office.
He breathes slowly, leaning back in his chair, then runs a hand over his face, tired but satisfied.
If at least in here... I can make a little difference, then it's worth it, he thinks.
And he doesn't know that that morning, so full of small steps forward, will be one of the last before the world around him falls apart.
─────────────────────────────────
Here's the first part of the prologue. This is a Bang Chan x reader story, I want to remind you, but I also wanted to show you different aspects of the other's lives to get a bigger picture. (I'll also have to write spin-offs for the others. I wanted to show you what life was like before Chan was sent to prison.) I hope you enjoyed it, and stay tuned for the next part. We're going to see some great stuff. Bye.
PART 2 - PART 3 - PART 4
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─────────────────────────────────
© 2026 thereaderinyourmind (auroraackerman11), please don't claim my work.
unchained 𓏵 index / masterpost
«I never thought...I'd end up here.» he wasn't ready for her...and she wasn't ready for him. sometimes love comes when you're in the worst place...and with the least expected person. bang chan never imagined his life could fall apart in a single night. brilliant engineer, future CEO, good man... until he's framed for a murder he didn't commit and locked up in the prison he designed himself. until she arrives. the new doctor at the penitentiary. a woman who doesn't look at him like a criminal. a woman who speaks sweetly to him when everyone is yelling at him. and while chan struggles to keep from breaking down, outside the bars his seven friends: hyunjin, changbin, minho, jisung, felix, seungmin and jeongin, hatch a crazy plan to save him: get arrested and free him from the inside. but between bars, violence, and secrets, something is born that no one had foreseen: a forbidden, fragile, powerful love. a love that shouldn't exist. a love that could destroy them both. a love that becomes the only light in the darkness.
warnings:
prison environment: power dynamics, isolation, rigid rules, and limitations on freedom.
psychological tension: emotional stress, fear, uncertainty, a sense of vulnerability.
internal conflicts: the struggle between survival, morality, and the desire for connection.
complex relationships: ambiguous dynamics between the protagonist and the members. loneliness and isolation.
possible hints of non-graphic violence: tensions between inmates or with guards.
themes of control and loss of autonomy: imposed routines, lack of privacy, dependence on the decisions of others.
slow and complex love story: feelings born in a hostile environment, bonds that develop delicately.
ambiguous relationships: emotional tension, closeness that confuses and consoles.
fluff, emotional: small gestures of care, protection, unexpected sweetness.
mutual emotional support: comfort, understanding, moments of shared vulnerability.
mature content. 18+ (i will warn at the beginning of the chapter).
minors, please do not interact.
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CHAPTERS
PROLOGUE
PART 1 — PART 2 — PART 3 ─ PART 4
CHAPTER 1
The first part of the plan went as planned. Hyunjin and the others managed to get to Chan in prison. But what happens now?
CHAPTER 2
The boys are starting to get used to prison, but it's not easy. Hyunjin begins to plan the escape. Chan is lost in his thoughts, unable to think of anything but you.
CHAPTER 3
© 2026 thereaderinyourmind (auroraackerman11), please don't claim my work.
FILE N.8
YANG JEONGIN
The Seer: He sees too much, too soon. That's why he doesn't speak much: he knows that not everyone is ready for the truth.
Psychological Focus: Hyper-Empathy
Jeongin is shy, emotional, loves children, and psychoanalyzes everyone.
He's the youngest, so he observes more than he speaks. He understands others before they speak.
He notices details no one else sees.
He's the first to sense that Chan and the doctor are developing something.
Moments when he utters a simple but devastating sentence.
«You're not okay...even if you smile.»
He's the observer. Jeongin sees everything.
He's always felt too much, without knowing how to handle it.
He understands people before they speak.
When he says something, it's always the right thing.
Physical Characteristics
General Presence
Jeongin is the youngest, and it shows.
He has a fresh, clean, almost naive energy.
Body
- height: 1.72 m
- physique: slender, agile
- movements: shy, controlled
Face
- soft, almost boyish features
- large, deep-set eyes
- soft lips
- slightly full cheeks
Eyes
- color: dark brown
- gaze: empathetic, observant, silent
Hair
- black
- straight
- medium cut, slightly messy
Unique Details
- the shy smile
- the slender hands
- the gaze that reads people
«I can do it. Just…watch me.»
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FILE N.7
KIM SEUNGMIN
The Judge: He doesn't fear the verdict, he only fears making the wrong decision. He carries the weight of his decisions like a self-imposed sentence.
Psychological Focus: Defensive Cynicism
Seungmin is an asshole, direct, and realistic.
He doesn't believe in illusions, only facts. He always tells the truth, even when it hurts.
He's the one who plans the coldest, most logical moves with Hyunjin.
He has a distorted sense of justice.
«He deserved it, don't think about it too much...»
There are moments when he seems emotionless...but then he gives in.
«Don't cry. It's no use.»
Seungmin sees the world for what it is, not how it should be.
He's learned that the truth hurts, but saves.
In prison
He's the one who thinks about the details others ignore.
He's the one who keeps the group grounded in reality.
When he's worried, he becomes even colder.
Physical Characteristics
General Presence
Seungmin is the type who seems calm...until he opens his mouth and destroys you with a single sentence.
Body
- height: 1.78 m
- physique: slender, athletic
- shoulders: broad
- movement: controlled, elegant
Face
- clean, harmonious features
- slightly elongated eyes
- thin lips
- defined jaw
Eyes
- color: dark brown
- gaze: realistic, direct, often judgmental
Hair
- dark brown
- straight
- neat, clean cut
Unique Details
- the crooked smile
- the perfect posture
- the look that becomes sweet when he looks at his friends
«Don’t be dramatic. It’s not that deep.»
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FILE N.6
FELIX
The Fallen Angel: It was light, now it's a scar. But even on the ground, it continues to shine in a way that hurts the eyes.
Psychological Focus: Luminous Resilience
Felix is a nerdy, quiet, and a ray of sunshine.
His strength is his ability to find light even in total darkness.
He makes jokes to ease tension. He's the one who holds the group together when they're about to fall apart.
He has a dark side: when someone hurts his friends, he completely shuts down.
A smile that hides enormous pain.
«Guys...let's stay calm. We're together. Nothing can stop us.»
He's the emotional healer. Felix brings peace everywhere.
He was bullied at school for this way of doing things, until Chan intervened.
In prison
He's the glue of the group. He's the one who calms the group.
When he's sad or angry, he doesn't smile...and that scares everyone.
Physical Characteristics
General Presence
Felix is pure light. A ray of sunshine in human form.
Body
- height: 1.71 m
- physique: slender, delicate yet defined
- movements: soft, gentle
Face
- sweet, almost angelic features
- soft cheeks
- full lips
- delicate jawline
Eyes
- color: light brown, almost amber
- gaze: bright, gentle, reassuring
When he smiles, his eyes close slightly.
Hair
- blonde (then he will dye them black)
- soft, slightly wavy
- medium length
Unique Details
- freckles
- deep voice (an incredible contrast to his face)
- a smile that lights up the room
- small but warm hands
«I wasn’t scared. My soul just left for a moment.»
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FILE N.2
LEE MINHO
The Psychopath: He sees the world without filters, without masks, without morals. He's scary because he never lies, not even to himself.
Psychological Focus : Emotional Detachment as a Defense
Minho is an asshole, provocative, calculating, cold, precise and manipulative.
He's actually hypersensitive, but he's learned not to let it show.
Only those who truly know him see his true nature.
«Don't worry, i'm here with you. You don't have to be afraid anymore.»
He uses sarcasm and malice to hide his fear. He's overprotective of Jisung because he's the only one who truly sees him.
In prison, he's the one who "doesn't bend," the one who commands respect and inspires fear.
When Jisung and the others are in danger, Minho completely loses control.
«Don't touch him...never again.»
The Emotional Sadist
Minho loves to provoke because it's his way of testing those around him.
He's learned that showing emotion equals weakness.
In the prison he's untouchable, he's the surgeon of death...with a single gesture, he can kill you precisely and cleanly.
«It takes me two seconds to cut your jugular without you noticing.»
Jisung is the only one who can calm him down.
Physical Characteristics
General Presence
Minho is the kind of man who walks into a room and makes you think, "I don't want to fight with him."
Not just because of his physical strength, but also because of the dangerous energy he exudes.
Body
- height: 1.72 m
- physique: toned, defined, agile
- movements: precise, controlled, predatory
- shoulders: proportionate
- waist: narrow
Minho looks like a dancer...or a killer.
Face
- symmetrical, almost perfect features
- sharp jaw
- feline, slightly elongated eyes
- thin lips, often curled into a sarcastic half-smile
- straight eyebrows, which make him seem always ready to judge
Eyes
- color: dark brown
- gaze: sharp, analytical, provocative
When he looks at you, it seems like he's deciding whether he likes you or not.
Spoiler alert: Usually not.
Hair
- dark brown or black
- slightly wavy
- medium length
- often naturally tousled
When he's angry, he runs a hand through his hair.
Unique details
- his slow, confident walk
- his always cold hands
- his gaze softens only around Jisung and his friends
«I don't destroy people...I show them who they really are...»
Minho is dangerous, a walking danger...you should be careful about him...or maybe not?
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© 2026 thereaderinyourmind (auroraackerman11), please don't claim my work.
FILE N.5
HAN JISUNG
The Storyteller: He turns pain into words, and words into refuge. He knows that every story he tells is a piece of himself he lets go.
Psychological Focus: Generalized Anxiety
Jisung is emotional, fearful, and not made for prison. But when it comes to serious matters, he becomes icy.
He's a teacher, accustomed to children and teenagers, not violence.
He clings to Minho like an emotional anchor.
He's the one who suffers the most from guilt, even though he's done nothing.
There are times when he tries to hide the trembling of his hands.
«I...I can do it...I have to do it for Chan.»
Jisung feels everything too much.
He grew up fearful of disappointing.
In prison, he's the one who suffers the most.
He feels safe with Minho. And when he's scared, he talks too much.
He has a creative mind and is also the funniest.
«Wait- i have an idea...a stupid one.»
«Don't panic- actually no, panic a little.»
Physical Characteristics
General Presence
Jisung is the kind of guy who seems harmless...until he speaks up and you realize he's an emotional volcano.
Body
- height: 1.70 m
- physique: compact, soft but toned
- shoulders: small
- movements: nervous, quick
Face
- full, adorable cheeks
- large, expressive eyes
- soft lips, often bitten due to anxiety
- less defined jawline, which makes him look younger
Eyes
- color: warm brown
- gaze: emotional, transparent, impossible to hide
when he's afraid → they tremble slightly.
Hair
- brown
- slightly wavy
- often messy
- medium length
Unique Details
- hands that shake when he's nervous
- ears that blush
- huge smile
- voice that cracks when he's excited
«Why is everyone looking at me?»
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© 2026 thereaderinyourmind (auroraackerman11), please don't claim my work.
FILE N.4
HWANG HYUNJIN
The Snake Charmer: He never forces you. He looks at you, talks to you, touches you...and you choose to fall.
Psychological Focus: Emotional Obsession
Hyunjin is romantic, crazy, with a dangerous aura.
His life revolves around three things: Chan, his friends, and the girl he loved as a child.
The revenge for Chan becomes his reason for living.
He's impulsive, violent when provoked, but incredibly sweet with those he loves.
In prison, he's the most fearsome.
When he talks about her, his tone changes completely.
«You know...if she asked me, I'd burn the world down for her.»
Hyunjin is violence and poetry, hate and love, impulsiveness and devotion.
He's the kind of man who can crack a skull without batting an eyelid...and then stay up all night watching the person he loves sleep without a trace of remorse.
His parents died in a car accident. His uncle is a powerful mafia boss who rules Seoul.
As a child, he saw things he shouldn't have seen.
He learned that those you love can be taken away in a second. That's why he's so obsessively protective.
He attacks before anyone can hurt him.
Chan and his "brothers" are sacred.
He divides the world into "us" and "them."
He acts before he thinks, especially when he's emotionally involved.
Hyunjin breaks down when:
- someone threatens Chan or someone he loves
- someone betrays him
- someone humiliates him in front of others
His breakdown isn't tears: it's pure, blind, devastating violence.
In prison
Hyunjin is the one who:
- inspires the most fear
- never bends
- doesn't take orders from anyone except Chan (in extreme cases)
- observes everything, always
- is ready to kill if necessary
His reputation precedes him. The guards fear him because they know who he is. The inmates avoid him.
Chan is family. A brother.
He's the one who protected him from everything.
Hyunjin would do anything for him.
Anything.
«If you touch Chan and the boys, you touch me.»
«You dared to touch my family...and you will face the consequences. Now run, little bunny...because when the wolf gets you, it won't be pleasant at all.»
With others
- with minho: competition, respect, constant provocation.
- with jisung: protects him like a little brother.
- with felix: reassures him, calms him.
- with seungmin: verbal clashes, but mutual respect.
- with jeongin: observes him, studies him, considers him "too good."
When Hyunjin is angry, he speaks softly.
When he's worried, he runs his tongue over his lips.
When he's jealous, he becomes silent..
«Don't touch what's mine...»
Physical Characteristics
General Presence
Hyunjin is the kind of man who seems to have stepped out of a Renaissance painting: handsome, disturbing, magnetic.
He has an aura that makes one uncomfortable and captivating at the same time.
Body
- height: 1.79 m
- physique: muscular, slender, elegant, defined
- shoulders: narrow but harmonious
- neck: long, elegant, almost aristocratic
- movements: fluid, feline, silent
Hyunjin moves like a shadow.
Face
- sharp, almost sculpted features
- defined, sharp jaw
- full lips, especially the lower lip
- straight, elegant nose
- dark, arched, expressive eyebrows
His face changes radically:
- when he's angry → he becomes icy
- when he's sad → his eyes become glossy
- when he looks at those he loves → he melts
Eyes
- color: warm brown, almost golden
- shape: almond-shaped, deep
- gaze: hypnotic, penetrating, dangerous
When he looks at you, it seems like he's judging you.
When he looks at her, it seems like he's praying.
Hair
before the cut
- shoulder-length
- wavy, silky
- black
- locks that frame his face
after the cut
- short on the sides
- slightly longer on top
- messy, tougher, more adult
The cut makes him more dangerous. More of a man. More determined.
Unique details
- the mouth that curls when he's sarcastic
- the vein in his neck when he shouts
- the long, tapered hands, like an artist's
- the elegant posture, even in prison
«I’m not dangerous...you just don’t know me yet.»
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© 2026 thereaderinyourmind (auroraackerman11), please don't claim my work.
FILE N.3
SEO CHANGBIN
The Vigilante: He doesn't believe in human justice, but in his own. He strikes from the shadows, but always for someone who will never be named.
Psychological Focus: Dual Identity
On the outside, he's serious and dutiful. Inside prison, he's a boss who controls everything, but pretends not to know others.
He lives in constant tension between what he should be and what he wants to be.
He's afraid of losing control, because he knows that if he collapses, everyone collapses.
He's the most lucid during the escape.
There are moments when he has to choose between "rules" and "family," but he will always choose family.
«I won't abandon you...»
He's always had to be "the strong one."
«Move. I’ve got this.»
He commands everything from the shadows.
He's the second most reliable after Chan.
Physical Characteristics
General Presence
Changbin is the kind of man who doesn't go unnoticed. Not because of his height, not because of his delicacy... but because of the compact power he carries.
He's a block of muscle, energy, and presence.
When he enters a room, it feels like the floor has to support an extra weight. He has the aura of a soldier, of a man who never bends, of a guard who never lowers his gaze.
Body
- height: approximately 1.67 m
- physique: extremely muscular, compact, defined
- shoulders: broad, sculpted
- arms: thick, veins prominent, strength visible even at rest
- chest: broad, massive
- waist: narrow, defined abdomen
- posture: always straight, always ready, always alert
He has the kind of physique that speaks for itself: "Don't try that."
Face
- strong, masculine features
- pronounced, square jaw
- full cheeks, which make him look younger when he smiles
- full lips
- dark, straight, very expressive eyebrows
His face changes greatly depending on his emotions:
- when he's serious → he looks like a commander
- when he's angry → he becomes intimidating
- when he smiles → he becomes incredibly sweet
Eyes
- color: dark brown
- shape: slightly almond-shaped
- gaze: direct, decisive, penetrating
His eyes never shy away.
Eyes that see everything.
The eyes of a man who has learned to command and protect.
Hair
- color: black or very dark brown
- texture: straight or slightly wavy
- hairstyle: short on the sides, longer on top, often carefully tousled
Unique Details
- the deep, surprisingly warm voice
- the huge shoulders, which fill any uniform
- the large, calloused hands, like a working man's
- the confident, almost military walk
- the way he clenched his jaw when he was angry
- the smile that lights up everything, even though he rarely shows it
How he looks in prison
As the head guard, Changbin has a more severe look:
- uniform that hugs his muscular body
- hard, professional gaze
- tidier hair
- even stiffer posture
- always clenched jaw
But when he sees his boys...
His eyes soften for a second. Just a second.
«If that means we have to screw this up, then let's do it right.»
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© 2026 thereaderinyourmind (auroraackerman11), please don't claim my work.
FILE N.1
BANG CHAN
The Leader:
He's the one who walks ahead even when he's afraid. He breaks in silence, so as not to break others.
Psychological Focus: The Savior Complex
Chan is altruistic, kind, shy, but also tough when necessary. His dominant trait is pathological responsibility: he feels the need to protect everyone, always, even when it's not his fault.
He blames himself for being arrested, even though he's innocent.
Both in prison and out, he's automatically the group's point of reference.
He never asks for help: he prefers to suffer in silence.
When someone is hurt or scared, Chan reacts before they even think.
«It doesn't matter what happens to me. Are you okay?»
The Silent Martyr
Chan is the type who sacrifices himself without anyone asking.
He learned at a young age that "if you don't hold it together, everything falls apart."
In prison, Chan is devastated. To pass the time, he works out or reads books.
Physical Characteristics
General Presence
Chan is the kind of man who doesn't walk into a room: he fills it.
Not out of arrogance, but he fills it both physically and psychologically. He exudes a calm yet dominant energy.
He's one of those faces that people notice without knowing why.
Body
- height: approximately 1.71 m (could be taller)
- physique: compact, muscular, built with years of gym training and martial arts
- shoulders: broad, well-defined
- arms: muscular, veins visible when he clenchs his fists
- chest: broad, sculpted, always upright
- hands: large, strong, with marked knuckles
Chan has a body that exudes reliability. He's the type who seems capable of lifting you...or the whole world.
Face
- soft but masculine features
- defined jaw, especially when he clenched his teeth
- slightly full cheeks, which make him look younger when he smiles
- full lips, especially the lower lip
- straight nose
- dark, pronounced eyebrows
His face changes completely depending on his emotions:
- when he's serious → he looks like a leader
- when he's angry → he becomes intimidating
- when he's shy → he becomes adorable
- when he's hurt → his eyes become bright but don't cry
Eyes
Chan's eyes are his most powerful feature.
- color: very dark brown, almost black
- shape: slightly almond-shaped
- gaze: intense, deep, always attentive
- eyelashes: long and thick
When he looks at you, it seems like he's reading your mind.
When he lowers his gaze, it seems like he's hiding a world of emotions.
Hair
- color: dark brown, almost black
- texture: slightly wavy
- length: medium-short, often naturally messy
- strands on his forehead: they fall over his eyes when he's tired or sweaty
Details that make him unique:
- the dimple on his left cheek when he smiles
- his shoulders are always slightly tense, as if carrying an invisible weight
- the way he breathes deeply when he needs to calm down
- his muscular neck, visible when he swallows
How he looks in prison:
- slightly thinner but muscular due to the gym he works out in prison
- deeper eyes
- harder jaw
- messy hair
- duller gaze
- always straight posture, as if he doesn't want to give in
Chan in prison is tragically handsome.
A good man trapped in a place that wants to break him.
«Come closer…I want to feel the way you breathe when you’re with me.»
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© 2026 thereaderinyourmind (auroraackerman11), please don't claim my work.
SKZ PRISON SERIES MASTERLIST
«A family isn't blood. It's choice...»
bang chan had it all: a prestigious job as an engineer in new york, a future as a CEO already written, seven brothers found in life, not in blood.
then, in a single night, everything falls apart.
framed for the murder of his boss, chan is arrested in front of cameras and sent to the maximum security prison he himself designed.
the only one who knows the truth is hwang hyunjin, architect, colleague, best friend, brother in life... and eyewitness hiding in the shadows.
but hyunjin can't speak.
not without putting his own life and the lives of his friends in danger.
when the system betrays chan, his friends decide to do the only thing possible: get arrested so they can break into the same prison and free him from the inside.
Hi everyone, i'm Aurora. How are you?
This is my first time writing a series like this, and i can't deny that i'm excited. I love skz, and ever since i started watching Prison Break, i thought: "Why not try writing a story about skz escaping from prison?"
I'm currently writing a Chan x Reader. Then there will be a spin-off with Hyunjin. If i have any other ideas for the others...i'll let you know. They will all be written in order, Chan's will be the one that starts it all.
I really hope these stories engage you as much as they engage me while i'm writing them. Happy reading.
FILES
- The Leader
- The Psychopath
- The Vigilante
- The Snake Charmer
- The Storyteller
- The Fallen Angel
- The Judge
- The Seer
BANG CHAN X READER (work in progress)
HYUNJIN X READER (work in progress)
others? maybe...
© 2026 thereaderinyourmind (auroraackerman11), please don't claim my work.