SEXYBACK : hyunsung ✓

𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍

Kira looked at Hyunjin with a face so white it matched the wall behind her. Her lower lip quivered before she nibbled on it. Seungmin next to her was racking through his hair with both hands, letting them rest on the back of his neck. He mumbled a prayer to himself.

"What?" Hyunjin asked, crossing his arms in front of his chest. "We talked about this for weeks now."

Kira shot him a glare. "You're not the one doing the actual thing though. It's easier said than done."

Hyunjin wanted to raise his voice, but Jeongin cut him off. "You might be right, but Hyunjin has a point. We can't wait any longer."

He couldn't believe it. After all the hard work, they were scared to commit to the plan. It's one thing talking and perfecting every single detail. But waltzing into the office and saying "Yo what's up, we're kicking you out bye-bye" was a whole different thing. If Hyunjin had the choice he'd do it himself.

The dancer rolled his eyes and dropped back against his seat with a dramatic huff. Why am I the only one truly caring about this?

The (actual) answer was unheard of for Hyunjin. That maybe their families and mental health didn't depend on the club as much as he did. That maybe the drama was something he created himself, that they might be wrong all along.

Kira was, no doubt, not 100% convinced to sacrifice her life taking over the club. But peer pressure gave her no opportunity to ever turn back.

"Let's just look at it rationally, you'll take all the files," one of the veterans started and pointed to the pile on the table. "And all you gotta do is show him his options. Like Jeongin said we have enough material to rat the club off to the other organization or even the police if we have to. If he leaves he can save his image and money. I think we all know that's all he cares about."

"And let's hope he takes Blake with him if he leaves," Jeongin throws in, only half-way joking. The boy was draped over the couch at the side. Deep circles decorated his pale skin, his hair frizzy, and his lips chapped. A cough caught in his throat and shook his body violently.

Guilty conscious nagged on Hyunjin's shoulders. He bit his lip, watching his roommate. His eyebrows dug a deep frown on his features. Wordlessly he stood up and made Jeongin tea.

"I hate mint tea," Jeongin mumbled, taking the cup.

"Don't care, drink up, will you?" Hyunjin's voice was harsher than he wanted it to be. He cringed internally seeing the boy's hands cramp around the hot cup.

.

Didn't they do this all for him? Wasn't Hyunjin saving him? Was this plan not to protect this family? He walked over to the plans and scanned over the papers. The heated pep-talk behind him only background noise as the voice in his head started.

Perhaps he should've never started this in the first place. Just go to college like... like his brother did. Perhaps his parents were right all along, he should've never hung out with that stinking Minho in high school. Should've resisted his tempting lips, those stern eyes, and the manipulating words tumbling off his tongue like a love poem.

Hyunjin wasn't blind. He knew that man was wrong for him. But this was what god wanted him to do. This club was where he was supposed to be all his life. It's like when a character in a movie makes a bad decision but ends up in the right place, with his true family and friends, living his happy ending. Right? 

Of course, he's right.

But the voice wouldn't stop, only grew more demanding with every night he didn't get a gig. He grew to hate it. Whoever planted the thoughts inside his head had to go fuck themselves. Hard. No, truly they deserved it.