❝ Stardust & Heartstrings ❞ YEONBIN FF

Flashback (8)

Yeonjun switched off his phone and hurled it to the floor, the screen shattering on impact. He curled up, wrapping his arms around his legs, and let out a despairing wail. His body shook with uncontrollable sobs, his heart feeling like it was shattering into a million pieces. The pain of Soobin's uncertain love was overwhelming, and Yeonjun couldn't hold back his tears.

In that desolate moment, Yeonjun yearned for Soobin's warm embrace, longed for his gentle touch to soothe the ache in his heart. But he was alone, surrounded by the oppressive darkness of the room, which seemed to swallow him whole. The shadows closed in, a suffocating shroud that mirrored the emptiness within. Yeonjun's tears fell like rain, his sobs echoing off the cold walls, a haunting reminder of his isolation.

His grandma had tried to reason with his parents, to make them see sense, but they had refused to listen. Next day, Yeonjun found himself being dragged to the airport, his heart heavy with resignation. As they approached the terminal, his mother's voice cut through the air, "We need to go through check-in, Yeonjun." But he dug in his heels, his eyes welling up with tears. "I won't go inside," he said, his voice shaking. "Soobin will come. I know he will." Yeonjun's voice cracked with desperation, his eyes scanning the crowds, searching for a glimpse of Soobin's familiar face.

His father's stern voice cut through Yeonjun's pleas, his words dripping with a toxic mix of anger and shame. "Don't make a scene here, we have a reputation to uphold," he growled, his eyes scanning the surrounding crowd with a mixture of fear and disdain. "Quietly follow us inside, now." The command was laced with a threat, a reminder that Yeonjun's feelings were secondary to the family's image. His father's grip on his arm tightened, a vice-like pressure that seemed to suffocate Yeonjun's last vestiges of hope.

Yeonjun's body seemed rooted to the spot, his eyes fixed on some distant point as if willing Soobin to appear. But his mother's words cut through his reverie, her voice a dagger to his heart. "If he truly loved you, he would be here by now," she sneered, her tone dripping with venom. "You're just a plaything to him, a curiosity to be used and discarded. Or perhaps he was just after our wealth and status all along." Her words were a cruel slap, leaving Yeonjun feeling shattered and vulnerable. Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes as he struggled to hold on to his fading hope.

Two hours ticked by at a glacial pace, each passing minute a fresh blow to Yeonjun's already battered heart. Finally, his father's patience snapped, and he hurled his wallet at Yeonjun's feet. "Use this to get yourself home," he growled, his voice devoid of empathy. "Your mother and I are leaving. You're no longer our concern." His mother's parting shot was the final nail in the coffin: "Stop waiting, Yeonjun. He won't come." Her words hung in the air like a death sentence, leaving Yeonjun shattered and alone as they disappeared into the airport, abandoning him to his despair.

The sky wept for Yeonjun, rain pouring down like a relentless curtain of sorrow. Yet, he remained frozen, anchored to the spot where his heart had been shattered. He repeatedly called Soobin, but the phone rang out, a harsh rejection each time. As the hours dragged on, Yeonjun's body finally succumbed to exhaustion, crumpling to the wet floor like a broken doll. Four hours of anguish had taken their toll. With a heavy heart, he slowly wiped away the tears, his eyes red and puffy. With a sense of resignation, he picked up his father's wallet, the weight of his shattered dreams settling upon him like a physical burden.

Yeonjun trudged through the rain to the bus terminal, his heart still reeling from the emotional blow. His parents had left for Seoul by flight, but he had no intention of following them. His destination was the same, but his purpose was different. He bought a ticket for the next available bus, using the cash from his father's wallet. As he waited for the bus to depart, Yeonjun's mind wandered back to Soobin, wondering if he would ever see him again. The bus ride was long and arduous, but Yeonjun didn't notice. He was lost in his thoughts, replaying every moment he had shared with Soobin, every promise they had made to each other. Finally, the bus pulled into Seoul's terminal, and Yeonjun disembarked, his eyes scanning the crowded streets as if searching for a ghost.

Yeonjun hailed a taxi outside the bus terminal, the bright lights of the city blurring together as he sank into the back seat. He gave the driver the address of his family's mansion, his voice barely above a whisper. The driver nodded and pulled into the evening traffic, leaving Yeonjun to his thoughts. As they drove through the city, Yeonjun's mind replayed the events of the past day, his heart still heavy with the weight of his parents' rejection and Soobin's silence. The taxi finally turned into the driveway of his family's grand mansion, the gates swinging open to admit them. Yeonjun paid the driver and stepped out into the rain, the sound of the water hitting the pavement echoing through the stillness. He trudged up the steps, his eyes fixed on the front door, wondering what lay ahead.

Yeonjun's eyes widened in shock as he stepped into the grand foyer, his gaze falling upon the surreal scene before him. His parents, who had abandoned him just hours ago, were now acting as if nothing was amiss. His mother, the same woman who had hurled cruel words at him, was busy in the kitchen, the savory aroma of steak wafting through the air, one of his favorite dishes. His father, who had disowned him, sat in his favorite armchair, engrossed in his work, reviewing papers for his next case. The scene was eerily normal, as if the past day's events had been erased from their memories. Yeonjun's mind reeled, struggling to comprehend the disconnect between their actions and his own emotional turmoil. He felt like a ghost hovering on the fringes of their perfect, unaffected world.

Yeonjun's gaze lingered on his mother, her words grating on his nerves like a forced melody. "Yeonjun-ah, go and change your clothes, the food is ready. Come down and eat with us," she said, her voice dripping with a sweetness that felt like poison to his ears. He couldn't believe she was acting like nothing had happened, like the past day's events were just a minor blip in their perfect lives. He felt a bitter taste in his mouth as he turned away, his eyes stinging with unshed tears. "I'm not hungry," he muttered, his voice barely audible, but he knew she heard him. He trudged up the stairs, leaving the warmth and light of the dining room behind, seeking solace in the darkness of his own room.

When Yeonjun opened his luggage, his eyes landed on the small box that Soobin had given him when they said their goodbyes in front of the house, where Soobin had dropped him off on his bicycle. Soobin had instructed him to "open it when you're alone".

Yeonjun opened the box to reveal a bracelet adorned with blue beads and sea shells, but the gift that once held sentimental value now felt hollow. He felt a sense of detachment and disillusionment wash over him, and with a swift motion, he discarded the bracelet, letting it slip from his fingers like a forgotten memory.

His mom entered the room with a steaming plate of grilled steak, cooked to a perfect medium-rare, accompanied by a tender serving of asparagus, a scoop of creamy mashed potatoes, and a sprinkle of sautéed garlic butter mushrooms. The plate was garnished with a sprinkle of fresh parsley and a side of rich demiglace sauce, adding a pop of color and flavor to the dish. The savory aromas wafting from the plate were enticing, but Yeonjun's emotional pain overshadowed his physical hunger.

Yeonjun's mom gently placed the plate of food on the bedside table, her eyes filled with a mix of guilt, concern, and desperation. She sat beside him, her voice soft and pleading as she spoke. "None of this ever happened. You have your entire life ahead of you. Forget about him. I'm sorry for slapping you. I shouldn't have blamed you, that boy must have brainwashed you." She paused, her hand reaching out to stroke his hair, her touch hesitant. "I love you, Yeonjun-ah. You're still my perfect son to me."

Yeonjun's body shook as he clung to his mother, his sobs wracking his frame like a storm. Tears streamed down his face, mixing with his mother's as she held him close, her own emotions finally surfacing. "He didn't come, eomma, he didn't come, he doesn't love me, eomma, I hate him, I... I hate him," Yeonjun's words were a heart-wrenching mix of anguish, betrayal, and desperation. His mother's grip tightened, her voice whispering soft reassurances, "I'm here, Yeonjun-ah, I'm here, my love, my son, I'll always be here for you."

Yeonjun's life seemed to return to a sense of normalcy, the silence about Soobin a palpable but unspoken agreement among his friends. Beomgyu, Taehyun, and Hyuka would occasionally exchange curious glances, but they never broached the subject, respecting Yeonjun's boundaries. Their group chats, once filled with mentions of Soobin, now focused on school, music, and everyday life. Yeonjun's laughter and smiles returned, but his eyes sometimes betrayed a hint of melancholy, a reminder of the heartache he'd endured. Though he never spoke of Soobin, the memories lingered, a bittersweet reminder of the love they shared, and the pain that followed.

***