Salvation

Chapter 15

I am just going to continue as it is. I acknowledge certain characters portrayed in this story are not so kind humans, and NOTHING will excuse what they've done. This is also a work of fiction, and not a direct reflection of said characters.

That being said if you want to stop reading now, I absolutely understand. I will never hold it against you, and thank you for the support. I will promise that in my next works said certain characters won't play as prominent of a role.

...

"Junmyeon, hello." Junmyeon's lip curled into a sort of snarl as his supposed best friends voice filtered into his foggy mind. Though he knew for a fact Baekhyun wouldn't come and see him. Not since he first arrived. "How's it going Junnie?" Baekhyun asked as a tablet was set in Junmyeon's sight, a small display of Park Baekhyun seated at his dining room table, a sketchpad stretched out before him. He barely spared the distraught man a glance, completely consumed by his latest sketches.

"I meant Yifan's cousin," Junmyeon finally said. THAT certainly got Baekhyun's attention. He snapped up, mouth dropping open. Junmyeon studied him silently for far too long to be comfortable. "Yixing," Junmyeon continued. He spit the information out like his brain and his tongue were on autopilot. "Zhang Yixing. He came from China to help keep an eye on Taozi. Apparently he's not doing too good anymore." Baekhyun set the sketchbook aside, finally taking the time to study his friend. His gaunt appearance and bags under his eyes. Junmyeon's lips drooped into a pout, not necessarily paying his friend any attention but feeling his eyes on him anyway.

"How are you doing?" Baekhyun finally dared ask. Junmyeon's face contorted as he thought about it. How was he doing? He felt startlingly alone even though he was constantly surrounded by people who claimed they had his best interest at heart. He felt sick over his choices and his life alike. He felt itchy, like thousands of insects were marching tracks along his skin. He just wanted out. Out of this building. Out of this body. Out of this life.

Some days he wondered what it would all be like of he had never been born.

Would his father and his mother still be together? Maybe they could have been happy together. Maybe they could have raised a kid they wanted instead of a kid they were stuck with. Maybe Junmyeon could have been born as someone else, someone who felt love and acceptance and all the wonderful things he always dreamed of. Maybe he could have pursued his dream job instead of pursuing solace at the bottom of a bottle time and time again. Maybe they all would have been better off if he hadn't been around.

"Junnie?" Junmyeon was once again yanked away from the abyss by his supposed best friends voice. Baekhyum frowned at the screen like Junmyeon was physically in front of him. "Do you want Chan or I to visit?" Baekhyun offered gently. Too gently. Junmyeon huffed, feeling angered and frustrated and...tired. So tired. He sank back against his seat, studying the man on the tablet screen in front of him. They never bothered up to this point. Why start now? He huffed again, though by now the feeling was deflating. Ebbing away like waves, an analogy Junmyeon was particularly attached to, since so often his demons felt like tsunamis ready to sweep him off his feet.

"No," he responded at last, taking silent note of Baehyun's confused and only slightly distraught expression. "I'm...I'm alright." He tried his best to keep his voice even. Try not to be a burden. He had a lot of practice doing that. All his life he tried not to take up space. Be someone else's problem. He was used to fighting his battles on his own. Why should this be any different. Baekhyun frowned thoughtfully at the screen.

"You know we love you, right?" he finally said. Junmyeon's heart gave a sad little kick, wanting desperately to believe that. To believe that Bakehyun and Chanyeol, against all odds, did love him. But he wasn't so sure. He wasn't sure if he was even capable of being loved anymore. All he did was fuck it up, time and time again.