Stray Kids Comfort Collection

6. [Mature/18+] Felix: Happy Yongbok

Part One

I stood from my desk, stretching my neck muscles after slouching over the computer screen for too long. This design was taking more of my mental energy than I had given to a project in a while, and the label pushed the deadline forward to add in a limited edition release for another distributor. I had been working longer hours, but thankfully I was able to do it from home.

I decided to give my eyes and mind a rest, so I walked over to collapse into the corner of the futon against the opposite wall of the guest room I had converted into an office during lockdown. My position had easily transferred into a remote position, and it only required me to drive into the city to the company for the few meetings better suited for in-person than over video conference. I leaned my head back onto the cushion and closed my eyes, taking in deep, centering breaths, counting back evenly from 10 to 1.

A click, a door opening, and the sound of a keypad being disarmed had me sitting up with a start. Only a handful of people knew the code to my alarm. Only one person would be coming by unannounced though.

"Felix?" I called out into the house.

He shuffled into the doorway, shoulders slumped, and a heavy tiredness weighing down his features. "Hi." The bass of his voice had so little feeling in it. He offered me his attempt at a half smile, and my heart broke.

I raised my open arms out to him and beckoned for him to come to me. He obliged and trudged over to the futon, collapsing onto it with his head in my lap, looking up at me. Instinctively, my hands found his hair and my fingers combed through it. The resistance from the heavy product in it gave me an idea of why he was here.

"Bad day?"

His eyes closed and he let out an exasperate groan. "Bad, no. Just draining and I'm so exhausted that it's affecting me in front of the cameras. I'm having a harder time keeping up the Happy Yongbok persona right now."

I felt for him, always expected to be "on" since his life rarely existed without cameras pointed at him. My place just so happened to have become a safe space for him. Our friendship was a refuge for each other, and in this season I knew he needed shelter more often than I would. I pressed deeper into his scalp, letting my fingers massage the tender skin.

His eyebrows raised and a humming moan rumbled out of his throat and nose. His lips parted slightly in a content smile. "Thank you."

My free hand rested on his chest, softly patting the space over his breastbone in a consoling rhythm. One of his hands rose to rest atop mine, and he enveloped it warmly. A comfort surrounded us,

creating a small bubble of protection from the world around us so that nothing could break through to disturb us.

I rested my head back on the futon cushion and asked, "How long before you have to go back?"

He groaned. "Rehearsal is for 8. We've got the practice room scheduled until 2 am." A sniffle echoed in the small room.

My head snapped up and I looked down at him. His eyes were still closed but several tears now streamed down the sides of his face. I couldn't tell which emotion hit me harder right then: sadness or anger. This industry could drive me to rage some days with the asinine expectations they had for their idols. The human body and spirit could only take so much at one time.

I checked my watch. 4:47 p.m. I patted him resolutely on the chest with both of our hands. "Lix, get up."

His eyes opened and he stared up at me. "What? Why?"

"I said get up." I nudged him, wiggling my legs and hips to make him uncomfortable and to jostle his head until he sat up with a heavy sigh. He sat on the edge of the futon and wiped at his eyes, some of the eye makeup smudging at the corners. It shouldn't have, but it made him more handsome with its imperfection.