Stray Kids Oneshots

56 - Chan

(Sad hours...also warning, sensitive topic)

•

🌙

•

I felt the drop run down my warm skin and drip down onto the black, silky fabric that was wrapped around my body, laying loosely around my arms and chest. The three first buttons were undone and the exposed skin was covered with a light chain and a ruby necklace. I lifted my arms and wrapped them across my chest, my hands gripping onto the fabric tightly as I tried to steady my breathing that kept on getting louder and louder for each inhale and exhale. I couldn't, I couldn't stay there any longer. The laughs and cheers in the other room, the laughter of the other boys. The walls acted like a separator of happiness and sadness. Oh, how I wish I was a part of them. How I longed to be able to stand up, cheer for us and be the role model I always wanted to be. I've been trying for so long, I've been fighting for my own future, putting in all my energy, all of those hours, all those years. I've gone through loss, grief, longing my home, loneliness. And that brought me here, in this room, by myself. The tears flooding my eyes, making everything in sight, blurry and unrecognisable. The sides and items that formed my home was like clouds dipped in paint, shattered around me.

What if I just end the prepared lifecycle here, right now?

Falling onto the floor, knees first, the rest of my body collapsing onto the cold floor, my breath knocked out of me, my mind, my thoughts, my will, my need, my hatred, my love. Gone in the blink of an eye. The boys in the other room unaware of the loss in the other space that's sharing a wall with their current location. Their smiles intact until the very last second of breath, the last sound my mind registers is the laughter of my loved ones, my colleagues, my members, my friends, my brothers, my family.

When I began my path to success, when my effort paid off, when I passed the trial. When I got accepted after the audition, all those years back, I never thought my actions could end up like this. That I would be told what I now think. That I now feel the same way they do about myself. Hatred. Pure hatred. 

My attempt of praising a culture through something minimalistic, backlashed. Many others have done the same thing before me. So why me? Did I lose the lottery? Was I the lucky loser? Did they all just gather together to pick one person to attack? No matter how much I tried to piece things together, it didn't make things clearer in my head. The anxiety I felt, the guilt building up, never got torn down again by the evidence. 

I shouldn't have played songs for my fans. I shouldn't have said anything, I shouldn't even have gone live to begin with. It feels like I can't even breathe without being judged, hated, called out for it. Maybe it was destiny. I never liked to believe such things like destiny, faith, and soulmates until I met them. It was destiny for us to meet, faith for me to find them. They were my soulmates. It was just too bad that soulmates could take the hit for you. Even if they could, I wouldn't allow it anyway, despite my previous saying. They were worth everything and they were everything for me.

I tried to weight their love and praise higher than the judgment, the opinions of unknown faces, nationalities, ages. But at times, it was hard to keep my head up, my heart aimed for them, my mind and being focused solely on the people I cared about. Their smiles were worth more than all of the gold and all of the diamonds on earth. Give me the diamond rain on Jupiter and it wouldn't even be close to their worth. But I couldn't be with them all of the time. It's physically impossible for them to occupy my time 24/7. I was doomed to be alone every once in a while. Their value not being portrayed strong enough, in a physical presence, for me to forget the hardships I go through.

"Chan hyung?" A soft voice chimed from the door, a light stream of light entering the dark room I was seated in. I lifted my head and met the eyes of one of those I was willing to take a bullet for. The lights of the city, coming in through the window, reflected on his eyes and the multiple tears filling my eyes and going down my cheeks in a slow manner. His face was covered in concern, his eyebrows sightly scrunched and his fist tightening as he gulped, his eyes now taking the shape of sorrow as he closed the door behind him, taking slow steps towards me. I couldn't keep it contained in front of him like I always did.  He kneeled down in front of me, his blonde hair now more noticeable in the dark. He placed a hand on my shoulder, grabbing it lightly. A tear now went down his cheek as well, bringing me guilt. I wiped it away and looked at him with a tilted head, my hand still on his cheek. He pulled my hand away from his cheek and pulled me towards him, his cheek pressed against the top of my head as his arms wrapped around me. I closed my eyes and pulled him closer, my hands gripping onto his shirt. What was I thinking, what would happen if he didn't come in right now. I cried louder into his chest, my eyes shut and my jaw clenched. I couldn't breathe, I was longing for air, but my self-hatred and anxiety was pushing down on my chest. I was holding him tightly, it felt as if I was going to break his bones at this rate. But I had him close, he was my guardian even though I was supposed to be his. Somewhere along the road, we all just switched roles.

"Jeongin...make it stop!"

•

🌙

•

Sad hours...and perhaps letting some "stays" (ot8 hæstkuker that don't know what it means to be a true fan...) that hate does get to idols, that they're normal human beings with feelings like us.

(sorry for the bad language...the definition of hæstkuk is found on urban dictionary for those who are curious...)