can't you see me? (believe me) ⸻ yeonbin (tw?)
yeonjun had always been the kind of person who appeared untouchable. he walked with a quiet confidence that drew people in, yet repelled them at the same time. his eyes always seemed to be somewhere far away, lost in a fog that no one could penetrate, not even soobin. soobin had known yeonjun for as long as he could remember. they had been inseparable in their childhood, two halves of a whole. yeonjun had always been the daring one, the one who sought thrills, who dared to challenge the world with a smirk. but somewhere along the way, that same fearless spirit had been consumed by darkness, by substances that gave him temporary relief but hollowed him out in the long run.
soobin watched it all unfold, helpless. he had tried everything he could think of. the gentle encouragements, the blunt confrontations, the quiet support when yeonjun needed space. but nothing worked. yeonjun was slipping further away, and soobin could feel it. he had tried to talk to him about it countless times. "yeonjun, you need help," soobin would say, voice trembling, "this isn't you. you're killing yourself."
yeonjun would just laugh, his voice low and amused. "relax, soobin. i know what i'm doing." but that confidence, that smile, was nothing more than a mask. soobin could see through it. he knew his friend wasn't fine. yeonjun wasn't fine at all.
the apartment they shared had become a graveyard for empty bottles, discarded cigarette butts, and remnants of drugs that had been used up and replaced. it was a mess, both physically and emotionally. soobin had tried to clean it up before, but it always felt like a futile gesture. yeonjun's darkness loomed over everything, and no amount of tidying could change that. the walls of their shared space were thick with tension, and every day soobin felt like he was choking on the silence.
it wasn't just the substance abuse that troubled soobin, though. it was the way yeonjun had changed, how his personality had become more withdrawn, more volatile. there were moments when yeonjun would be fine, charming even, but then there were the other moments—the unpredictable outbursts, the cold stares, the mood swings. it was as if yeonjun was constantly battling an inner war, and no one, not even soobin, could fight it for him.
it all came to a head one evening. soobin had been waiting for yeonjun to come home. he had heard the faint click of the door handle, the familiar sound of yeonjun stumbling inside after another night out. soobin had prepared himself for another confrontation, but this time, something was different. he could feel it in the pit of his stomach.
"yeonjun," soobin called, his voice tight, but steady. yeonjun barely looked up, his eyes bloodshot and unfocused. he tossed his jacket onto the couch and headed straight for the kitchen, the familiar sound of him cracking open a beer echoing through the apartment. soobin clenched his fists, trying to calm the wave of frustration that was rising inside him. this had to stop.
"yeonjun, i'm done with this," soobin said, stepping into the kitchen. "you're killing yourself. you have to stop."
yeonjun paused, his hand still gripping the beer can. he turned to look at soobin, a twisted smirk on his lips. "you think you can tell me what to do? you're not my dad, soobin. i'm fine."
"you're not fine," soobin snapped, his voice rising. "you've been using for months now, and you don't care about anyone, least of all yourself. i can't watch you do this anymore."
"and what are you going to do about it?" yeonjun's voice was low, mocking. "you think you can fix me? fix this mess? it's too late for that."
soobin's heart sank. he had heard this before, the same dismissive tone, the same defiance. but this time, something inside him snapped. "it's never too late," soobin said, his voice shaking with anger. "but you have to want it. you have to stop pretending like everything's okay when it's not."
"i never asked for your help," yeonjun spat back, his voice cold. "you're just some overbearing friend who thinks he knows what's best for me."
soobin's temper flared, his hands trembling with frustration. he was done with the excuses, done with watching yeonjun self-destruct. without thinking, he stormed past yeonjun, into the living room. the stash was there, as usual. the neatly arranged bottles of alcohol, the bags of drugs, all of it laid out like an altar to the destruction yeonjun had chosen. soobin's breath hitched in his throat. he couldn't stand it anymore.
without warning, soobin grabbed the bottles, one by one, and threw them into the fireplace. yeonjun stood frozen in the doorway, eyes wide with disbelief as the flames consumed the alcohol. soobin's hands shook as he tossed the drugs into the fire next, watching the plastic containers burn, the smoke rising into the night air. "this is for your own good," soobin muttered, though he wasn't sure if he was convincing yeonjun or himself.
yeonjun's expression shifted from shock to rage in an instant. "you're insane," he shouted, stepping forward. "you can't just—" he lunged at soobin, grabbing him by the wrist, but soobin shoved him back, his own anger flaring.
"i'm trying to save you!" soobin yelled, his voice raw. "why don't you get it? i love you, yeonjun, but i can't watch you do this to yourself anymore!"
the words hung in the air, a painful confession that soobin had never meant to say out loud. but it was too late. yeonjun's face twisted, and for a moment, soobin saw something more than the cool, confident mask. he saw a glimpse of the boy he used to know, the boy he used to love. but it was fleeting, gone in a flash as yeonjun's anger took over.
"you don't get to say that," yeonjun spat, his voice trembling with emotion. "you're not allowed to love me. not like this."
soobin's chest tightened, his heart shattering. he had never wanted to hurt yeonjun. all he had ever wanted was for his friend to be okay. but the words had already been spoken, and now there was no taking them back. yeonjun turned away, retreating to his bedroom, slamming the door behind him with a force that shook the walls.
soobin stood there, the flames crackling in the hearth, and for the first time in a long time, he felt utterly lost. he had tried to save yeonjun, but in the end, he had only pushed him further away. the room felt colder now, the warmth of the fire doing nothing to chase away the chill that had settled in his bones. he sank down onto the couch, his head in his hands, feeling the weight of his failure pressing down on him.
the days that followed were a blur of silence. yeonjun barely spoke to soobin, his presence a shadow in the apartment. the tension between them was unbearable, and soobin found himself retreating into himself, unsure of how to fix what he had broken. yeonjun had locked himself away, refusing to acknowledge the confrontation, refusing to acknowledge the love that soobin had tried to offer.
one night, as soobin lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, he heard the sound of yeonjun's footsteps in the hall. he waited, hoping for some sign that things might improve. but then he heard the unmistakable sound of a bottle cracking open, the soft hiss of it being consumed, and soobin knew.
yeonjun hadn't changed. he hadn't even tried. the fire had burned his stash, but it hadn't burned the part of yeonjun that refused to be saved.
soobin woke up the next morning to find that yeonjun had gone. no goodbye, no explanation, just an empty room and a lingering smell of smoke and alcohol. soobin sat in the silence, the weight of the unspoken words hanging between them, knowing that this time, it was too late. yeonjun had chosen his path, and soobin was powerless to follow.
the love that had once been so bright and full of possibility had turned to ashes, scattered in the winds of regret and sorrow. soobin sat there, waiting for something that would never come, his heart heavy with the knowledge that sometimes, no matter how hard you try, some people are meant to slip away.
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