The Art of Cheating | changlix

Question 7

*mature content is present in this chapter; viewer discretion is advised
*if you need someone to talk to, my private messaging is always open. always talk to somebody.

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Deep Breathes Don't Work
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Changbin had stuck to Felix the past two days, afraid Hyunjin might attack him again. Rightfully so, as he had been assaulted, and he was extremely nervous for it to happen twice in a week.

Changbin had thought if Hyunjin attacked him a second time after he bruised Hyunjin's nose at his own home, he could do it again. He would be able to punch his jaw out of socket, actually break his nose, something. But Hyunjin had gotten him at a bad time, or he was just too shocked at what Hyunjin had spoken to him in that goddamned janitor closet to do anything.

His words about Hyunjin's mother didn't even work.

Changbin couldn't even believe how scared he was. It was a lanky, tall, teenage boy he was dealing with. How could he not get to the others head. How could he let himself be naïve enough to let himself be attacked and taken advantage of.

His reflection didn't help lift up the heavy weight of self hatred. Seeing the ring of black and blue across his torso where Hyunjin had dragged him into the janitors closet. It hurt to bend over, lie down, move even. He could barely brush his teeth because the shake of his arm that caused his torso to move a little was now so painful, all because he let himself get pulled in a janitors closet and almost get raped.

Changbin rubbed his eyes, ran his hands down his face, and then dropped them to the cold, white countertop in his bathroom. He followed them with his eyes, which now were staring at the sink as if it was the most interesting thing in the world. Imagining what it would be like if he went down the drain like the water that was running. Wondering if anyone would care he went missing.

The world would keep spinning, people would be going about their business as normal. Would anyone cry for him when he's gone. Would they wish they treated him better, took time to get to know him better. Would his mother stop drinking when he's gone because she knew he didn't like it. Would his friends mourn his death. Would Hyunjin be sorry for the things he did. Would Seungmin beg for forgiveness in front of his grave because he felt he was at fault for Changbin's death. Would Felix care he died, even though they'd only known each other for a week. Or would Felix be mad that Changbin didn't hold up on his end of the deal.

The deal he had made to get back at Hyunjin, which only led to him being no better than Hyunjin. Cheating on him with someone Hyunjin considered himself friends with. Putting the two of them into a relationship, something that should be filled with happiness, passion, and love, was only fake and a crazy idea. It was ending in a little more than a week, and they may never even speak again after it.

God, even thinking his name made Changbin want to curl into a ball and cry, because he was stupid enough to let himself grow attached to Felix way too quickly. He'd just watch Felix in class unknowingly, catching himself staring before Felix could.

Changbin couldn't believe himself. He's fucking everything up because he just has to feel emotions. He has to feel shocked and helpless when Hyunjin attacks him. He has to feel happy and safe in Felix's arm, and feel amazing when he's the one who makes Felix laugh and smile. How just seeing that Felix decided to show his freckles one day makes him so overwhelmed with love and joy.

It felt suffocating, and the walls seemed to be closing in. Changbin tried to breathe, remember how to make air go in and out of his lungs even and paced, but deep breaths just didn't seem to work right then. He was breathing all too fast, and suddenly he was so relieved he let the water stay running because it drowned out the sound of him crying.

And he should've called someone, but who could he call? He couldn't tell his mom how he felt, she would just tell him to suck it up. He couldn't call his friends, they would be annoyed and tell him he was whiney about a break up. He couldn't call Felix, they'd just met. He couldn't call Hyunjin because Hyunjin would think he was running back into his arms, the arms he felt so damn safe in until recent. He couldn't even call his best friend Seungmin because Seungmin was the whore his boyfriend fucked.

He had no one in that moment. He couldn't trust anyone. No one would listen to him. He was just being whiney and sad because his boyfriend screwed his best friend.

Changbin couldn't breathe.

It felt like he was drowning in the water that was running, but he was stuck there because he had no one to pull him out. No one to help him swim in the deep water around him.

He felt so helpless and vulnerable. He couldn't stand it.

Changbin was holding his own neck, as if the action would help him control his breathing. He curled into a ball on the floor, hoping the motion would help him protect himself from the world. The evil, wicked, vile, horrid, awful world that didn't care whether he was happy and healthy or if he was dying on the inside because he couldn't even handle his own damn emotions. The world that didn't care whether he was shattered into a million pieces of fragile glass and had no one to try and glue the pieces together again.

The world that held people who didn't care about him. People who Changbin had trusted with his life. Those people who went behind his back and ripped him to shreds. Those two people he loved and cared for the most, the people he would take a bullet in the head for before thinking twice about it, just to betray him. Leave him hating himself. Leaving him to wonder what the fuck he did wrong for either of them to be so heartless and ruin his life. Leaving him to wonder what he could've done differently if he knew what was bothering them.

But they just left him in the dark, which seemingly got darker when they decided to have sex behind his back and make him cry endlessly at night.

And Changbin knew he shouldn't have done what he did. He knew he shouldn't have got off the bathroom floor and walk into his room. He knew he shouldn't have walked to the place where he hid the thing he swore to never pick back up. To grab on to the thing he should've threw away years ago.

He knew he shouldn't have went back in the bathroom and contemplate whether this was the right thing to do because it wasn't.

But he let his right hand lift up the thin, sharp piece of shiny metal to his left wrist. He let his right hand dig the razor blade into the only unscarred skin on his body, and rip it open. He let the blood drip onto the white sink, where it would run down towards the drain in a stream.

He needed to make his arm look the way his heart felt because even though it wouldn't make him feel better, it made him feel something other than heartbreak and confusion.

Changbin knew he shouldn't have done it.

But he just couldn't find it within himself to care.