"Okay." (Bbangnyu) ☑️

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"I just want to be able to forget about him."

It was late one evening, and Younghoon and Changmin were sitting at a bench on campus. They had been drinking, especially Younghoon, who liked how it made him feel nice for a little while. However, now that the short-lived happy drunkenness was gone, he had slipped into the sad drunk stage.

"What about finding someone else, to take your mind off of him?" Changmin answered.

"...Who? I'm tired Changmin, I'm going to bed-" He started to get up.

"Younghoon. Wait."

Younghoon stumbled back onto the bench. He was very clearly drunk.

"Mhm?"

"I... What about... Just-"

Changmin cut himself off by grabbing the back of Younghoon's head and pulling him into a kiss.

-

What the two didn't see, was the boy who had been watching them from behind. As soon as Chanhee saw Changmin pull Younghoon into the kiss, his suspicions were confirmed, and he ran back to his dorm in tears.

-

In his drunken state, Younghoon didn't really register what was going on. He pulled away, mumbled something incoherent, got up and started making his way back to his apartment, leaving Changmin sitting alone, not really sure how he should be feeling.

-

Chanhee felt it like a kick to the stomach, breath punched out of him instantly; he was left gasping and shaking, trying frantically to fill his lungs.

He felt his stomach drop - the world bottoming out beneath his feet - and white noise filled his ears like a rush of empty. Chanhee’s hands trembled, and he was hoping - hoping so desperately - that he’d got it wrong. Because he wouldn’t. Younghoon wouldn’t do this. But his knees; they gave out beneath him, knocking together as he slid to the floor, curling up as small as he could make himself, as small as he felt.

Chanhee didn’t understand how this had happened – he thought they really liked each other. Without Younghoon, Chanhee wouldn’t know what to do anymore. Younghoon had become his everything, his whole; and now Chanhee was nothing because Younghoon thought he was nothing – he had replaced him so easily. Chanhee was surrounded by echoes of fake and pretend - and it was like he didn’t even know how to breathe anymore. He couldn’t get enough air into his lungs and he was trying and trying but he couldn’t breathe because Younghoon had left; Younghoon had left and he didn’t like Chanhee anymore and Chanhee-

                -he can’t breathe, can’t breathe, can’t breathe.

His hands trembled as they gripped the counter and Chanhee forced himself to inhale; fought and fought until the air went down, not easily, but his lungs filled and his legs gave – and Chanhee’s hands and knees were on the his cool dorm room floor; lungs heaving but working and he was not okay, but he was not going to die.

So Chanhee made himself stand back up; brought all of everything inwards and forced the trembling in his hands to ease. He held tight to his heart, shoved the hurt deep, and - breathed.  

He sat on his bed and gripped tight to reality; thought about upcoming projects. He held onto his sheets and planned what he was going to do for each one – because if he didn’t then he'd be back to thinking about not good enough and stupid and ugly.

And it was strange because Chanhee had been starting to believe that maybe him and Younghoon, the two of them, weren't just this massive joke – that this kind, wonderful, brilliant, handsome boy could want him; want Chanhee, of all people.

 So it was a shock, but also not really. Because Chanhee had been preparing for this; knew that no-one could actually want him. He knew that it was probable that Younghoon would leave him one day – but it was awful. Because Chanhee had started to believe the kisses, the touches, the love that he felt sheltered in every day. He thought that maybe he did deserve it; believed that maybe he was beautiful, just like Younghoon told him. But it all seemed so wrong now.

And Chanhee knew that jokes could be both funny and cruel – and maybe he’d laugh years down the line – but right now? Right now it just hurt. He’d always been the butt of the joke, though. He knew that experience intimately. So he’d fake a laugh, fake okay – and when they all came around and giggled about Chanhee and gullible and hilarious, well. He’d suck it up and he’d laugh, because that was all he knew how to do. And if he went back to his dorm afterwards – if he fell into bed and sobbed; well. No-one would know.

But Chanhee was just tired. He was exhausted and all he wanted to do was curl up in bed and pretend. So he turned the light off and planned his pretend. One where Younghoon loved him and they were together, with a life full of sunshine and laughter. It was nice. Sweet. And Chanhee pretended and pretended and sunk into sleep, hoping desperately that when he woke up this would all have been a dream.

-

oof.