broken glass | woosan

~1~

SAN'S POV

It's 12:45 am, and there I am, pushing through the doors of KQ Entertainment with a purpose. I strut past everyone, ignoring the curious glances thrown my way. The hallways blur as I make a beeline for the practice room. Anger simmers beneath the surface, a slow burn kindled by the sight of a certain brunette boy.

Wooyoung and Yeosang were inseparable, practically joined at the hip, and there I was, just sighing to myself in the corner. Why was I letting this get to me? It's not like Wooyoung is my boyfriend or anything. And falling for him? No way, right? I keep chanting to myself, "He's just a guy, and I'm totally straight," trying to drown out the confusing feelings. But, let's be real, my emotions are all over the place and it's anything but simple.

I push the door open with a shove, only taking a few steps before letting my bag drop with a heavy thump. As I slide down against the wall to the floor, I exhale a deep, frustrated sigh, the weight of my feelings pressing down on me. Weaving my fingers through my hair, I mutter to myself barely above a whisper, "Why's this hitting me so hard?" I can't help but wonder, 'What would everyone think if they knew what's going on in my head?'

Dropping my head into my hands, I let myself get lost in a whirlwind of thoughts, each one colliding with the next. Minutes tick by before I finally look up, my own eyes meeting me in the mirror. Staring back, I'm searching for truth in the reflection. "Is this really me?" The anger bubbling inside isn't for Yeosang, it's for myself. "How did I end up falling for a man?" The question hangs heavy in the air.

From the moment I took my first breath, it was ingrained in me—a man should love a woman, marry a woman. But then, why does my world ignite with just his smile? In Korea, stepping away from tradition is like inviting whispers and disapproval. The thought of my parents' disappointment, their potential disgust if they knew... it's crushing. Acceptance feels like a distant dream.

Time slips away unnoticed—it's 1:30 AM and I haven't moved. Pulling myself together, I head over to the sound system. Phone in hand, I scroll through the playlist, looking for that perfect song. I have always used dancing as a way to express my emotions. I hit play on a song that feels right and let the dance take over, speaking for me where words can't.

"Empty" by Chase Atlantic echos through the studio, pulling me into its grip. My consciousness drifts away, leaving my body to move instinctively with the music. The raw lyrics, "tell me why the fuck I feel so empty," stir a storm within me. As I dance, I can feel the emotions building up. Tears well up causing my vision to blur. "I feel empty," the tears break free, tracing wet paths down my face. Overwhelmed, I stop mid-dance, breathless, and collapse to the floor, low sobs leave my mouth as the song plays on.

I grab at my chest, fingers digging into my skin, trying to ease the pain that's burrowed there. It's like I can hardly breathe. I'm gasping for a breath of calm, a break from the chaos in my mind, but it's like I'm fighting against a riptide. Those thoughts, cruel and unyielding, keep telling me I'm repulsive, that if anyone really saw the true me, they'd hate me. The song ends, and now it's just the sound of my own sobs that fill the emptiness of the studio.

Normally, I'd be mortified, but I'm way past that point now. I draw my knees up into my chest and just let the tears come, muffled sobs escaping my mouth. My body shakes violently, while my head's spinning with all these thoughts of the people I care about turning their backs on me.

Caught up in a whirlwind of thoughts, I didn't hear the practice door open or close. Suddenly, i feel two small gentle hands on my back. "San..." his voice is soft and laced with concern, "San, are you okay?" Hastily, I gathered myself, wiping away any evidence of my vulnerability, and mutter a weak, "I-I'm fine, Woo." He doesn't say anything, but I can feel his eyes on me. His gaze is heavy, like he's trying to peel back the layers of what I'm feeling without saying a word.

He joins me on the floor now facing me. "Tell me what's wrong," he insists, gently hooking his finger under my chin, lifting it slightly. I stay silent avoiding eye contact. "Please," Wooyoung pleads desperately. I swallow harshly and meet his eyes.

Our eyes lock, his deep beautiful brown eyes are full of desperation. I'm torn, wanting to tell him the truth, yet fearing his judgment. "I'm just stressed," I lie, "You know how I get with comebacks." He studies my expression, then releases a sigh, mistaking my words for the truth.

"You scared me, I was so worried about you," he confesses, a subtle smile of relief graces his features. It's a heartwarming sight that leads me to truly appreciate his natural beauty. I've always adored his bare face, he's truly a work of art. A smile finds its way onto my own lips.

The silence hangs thick between us, charged with an unspoken energy. My gaze drifts from his eyes to his full lips. The desire to just close the gap, to taste a kiss is intense, but I hold back. Subconsciously, my lips part, tingling with anticipation, and when our eyes meet again, it's like a spark's been lit.

Unexpectedly, I catch Wooyoung's gaze descending to my lips, mirroring my thoughts. It's as if he's entertaining the same forbidden thoughts. When our gazes meet again, the air thickens with our mutual desire. The tension amplifies, expanding with each passing second, threatening to swallow us whole.

I start to slowly lean in, Wooyoung following my lead. The distance between us becomes smaller with every breath. We are mere inches apart, close enough to feel his breath teasing my lips. My heart hammers in my chest, being so close to the contact I've craved. But just as the gap is about to close, the door to the practice room swing open, causing us to jolt apart.

Wooyoung's eyes widen, mirroring my own shock, as we turn sharply to find Yeosang standing in the doorway. The abrupt intrusion slices through the moment like a cold gust of wind, leaving a chill of what might have been. Memories of the earlier live broadcast come rushing back, stirring a familiar twinge of jealousy that knots in my stomach.I now remember why I came here in the first place.

"Hey guys, what are y'all doing?" Yeosang asks with a joyful lilt in his voice, curious but oblivious to the tension he's walked into. "Oh, nothing, just came to check on San," Wooyoung replies smoothly. "It's getting late, though; we should all probably head back to the dorms," he says, getting to his feet in an instant, eagerly heading for the door. "Yeah," I mumble, my gaze dropping to the mirror in front of me, catching a glimpse of my own conflicted eyes. A silent question hangs in my mind, heavy and unspoken: "Does he regret what almost just happened?"

I swing my bag over my shoulder and step out into the cool evening, trailing behind Wooyoung and Yeosang. We head to the company cars where Hongjoong and Seonghwa are already waiting, their silhouettes framed by the dim light. "I'll ride with Hongjoong and Hwa," Yeosang announces, his voice light and carefree as he slides into the vehicle beside them. A wave of relief washes over me, and I can't help the small, victorious smile tugging at the corners of my lips.  It's not that I have anything against Yeosang – he's a great guy – i'm just the jealous type.

I slide into the backseat of the second car, trailing behind Wooyoung. The air is heavy with tension, only the engine's soft hum can be heard. Wooyoung's fixed stare out the window sets my nerves on edge. What's on his mind? With a nervous throat-clear, I break the silence. He turns to me with an unreadable expression.

I start, "So Wooyoung, about earlier, I—" but he interrupts, "It was nothing." He snaps his head back towards the window. Stunned into silence, I fix my gaze on the back of his head. "N-nothing?" I stutter out, disbelief coloring my tone. He turns, his expression cold, "Yes, San. It was nothing. Forget about it, okay?" His words, laced with venom sting my heart. I'm left with a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach, wondering what I could have missed.

Tears threaten to spill from my eyes. A lump forms in my throat, and my heart feels like it's splintering into fragments. I avert my gaze, turning toward the window as a hushed, heartbroken whisper escapes my lips, "Okay." The word barely audible.

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AN:

♡ first chapter complete!!

♡ i don't have an updating schedule but i will try to update regularly and fast for you guys.

♡ let me know what you think so far, this is my first fanfic so any tips or feedback is greatly appreciated.