It’s December 31st. The end of the old year. The city is brightening up, shaking its layers of grey to shine in the prettiest white; the jealousy of all its surroundings.
The hallways of the office are crowded, employees working extra hard to be given the evening off, to start off on the right foot. Nothing can go wrong for the blackout tonight.
The grand reset.
Hyunjin can barely breathe in the stuffy air of his cubicle, feeling eyes on him everytime he moves. It’s nothing personal, just the managers doing their job, but it sets everyone on edge.
Lia stutters twice during the morning announcements, and Chan’s uncharacteristically fidgety. Jisung’s stayed in his section of the building, Felix is with a client in his office, Changbin’s talking to a higher up,
Hyunjin tries not to look guilty. Pretend his son is not sleeping at his illegal art studio right now, in the midst of paints and colors and the presents they had wrapped to put under their small, green tree.
He’d woken up that morning to Jeongin’s quiet giggles and the strong scent of breakfast coming from the kitchen.
And when he got up, hobbling out of his bedroom to where their rickety dinner table was set up by the couch, he saw the places set, and his son carrying a carton of milk.
“Where’s Yongbok?” He’d asked, only for his son to nearly drop the milk in his haste to point to the kitchen.
Felix was cooking, humming something familiar as he stirred the pot with a wooden ladle Hyunjin vaguely recognized as Jisung’s.
“Morning sunshine.” He had mumbled into the younger’s shoulder, wrapping his arms around Felix’s waist without much thought, his chin settling on the blond’s shoulder.
“Morning hyung. Taste this.”
The morning had flown by too quickly after that, and now he was in the office, praying the cute little life he had at home was not on the verge of falling apart. He wanted it to stay together, for at least a little longer. Was that selfish? Perhaps it was. Oh well.
Returning back to his daydreams, Hyunjin failed to notice the pair of eyes that was fixed on him, studying him with an intense intent.
“Are you sure?” San’s voice was hushed, but his words still carried.
Felix nodded, busying his hands with the clipboard someone left on his desk. “Chan says it’s the best time.”
San bites his lip. “I’ll tell Hongjoong-hyung, but…” His hesitation is as clear as day, dark eyes swimming with worry.
“Too soon?” Felix guesses, and San nods.
They stay quiet a moment or two more, and then their time is up, and Felix’s “client” stands up, heading for the door.
Before he walks out, San stops for a moment, turning around, as if looking for something on the younger’s face.
“What?”
“Nothing.” He shakes his head. “I’m just thinking…. We still haven’t found the mole yet.”
And then he’s gone, leaving Felix with a sinking feeling. He’s right. Unconsciously, his eyes flicker over to where Hyunjin’s typing up reports and preparations for the black out.
His hand closes over the small necklace he wears right over his heart.
The bed is cold when Jisung gets up that morning. Very cold.
One of the cats they keep pads over to him, headbutting him to demand food.
When did Minho leave? Jisung wonders, growing concerned. To go out, cats unfed, no note, no text, no warning….
It reminded him of a fight they’ve had too many times.
Sighing, Jisung gets up, leaving the checkered quilts on his bed, finding his slippers and shuffling into the kitchen.
There’s no sign of Minho there, either, but that’s to be expected. Sighing, Jisung ignores the goosebumps lining his body and grabs a can of cat food and a can opener.
It’s still cold. Maybe their generator broke down. It wasn’t the City; those things happened often here.
Resolving to check it later, Jisung opened the fridge.
Nothing appetizing stared back.
He closed it, deciding not to eat. He had to leave for work soon anyway.
His footsteps echoed down the hall to the bathroom, alerting his downstairs neighbor of his movements.
Someone grinned, someone else made a phone call.
In no time at all, a car arrived to pick Jisung up for work.
Seungmin forgot his lunch at home.
Perhaps that was the only reason he’d stumbled across what he did, because how else would he have ever known?
But now he knew what he did, saw what he saw, and rough hands grabbed him, clamping a rag over his mouth, pushing him into one of the bedrooms, and a rough voice told him to remain quiet.
Pressed face-first into the bed, his wrists were bound behind his back, cold metal digging into his skin. His vision blurred with hot tears.
“Get up!” Lifted to his feet, he was led out of the apartment, away from the freedom and safety he had once known.
His little paper bag was on the floor, sandwich spilling out.
It was 8 hours until the blackout.
YOU ARE READING
city of stars
Fanfiction~hyunlix~ There's something almost hypnotic about his voice - it's so deep, dark- but at the same time, there's a softness to it, almost a gentle caress to the words. There's nothing rough about the way he sings, rather, it's soft and reassuring - r...
