Chapter Text
♡
Click. Click. Click.
Dokja doesn’t immediately start ascending the stairs to Heewon’s apartment complex, instead he slips into an alley and pulls a cigarette out. It hangs in his mouth as he pulls out his lighter, flame igniting and casting long shadows beneath the tired moon. He watches as the flame dances in the slight breeze, the heat of the fire seeping into his skin. Slowly he raises his other hand to protect it and brings it to the end of his cigarette, it making the paper go black as it begins to burn.
However, before the tobacco can fully ignite he sees what appears to be a hand coming to hit him from his peripheral, his head swiveling as he flinches. Before he can extinguish the flame his free hand moves too close and gets burned, a searing pain causing him to drop the lighter and shake his hand out, cigarette following as he curses. Never does the hand connect with his body, instead he’s met only by the cold night air.
Click. Click. Click.
His expression slowly morphs from pain to resigned exhaustion as he stares into the empty night, hand throbbing where he had gotten too close to the flame just as Icarus had. Air enters his lungs shallowly, lungs barely moving as if they belong to a corpse, body entirely still except for his hair and clothes that sway in the breeze. Eyes grow darker the longer he stares unseeing, eyelids fluttering shut.
Click. Click. Click.
Delicately he tilts his head back, lips parting to release a breath too large for what little oxygen he permits to circulate. A cloud of life escapes him and rises before fading into the never ending kingdom of solitude. The autumn breeze runs fingers of ice across his cheeks, soaking through his flesh to the bone that lays beneath. Muscles in hands long gone red from lack of circulation twitch, fingers moving imperceptibly against his will.
Click. Click. Click.
Suddenly the living statue moves, body whirling around as a fist slams into the building to his side, puffs of precipitation leaving rosy lips as the once relaxed face contorts into a scowl. Pain wraps its thorns up his arm cruelly, nerves screaming out to the aloof stars that watch from their thrones atop the world. Anger slowly stirs within his heart, the waves growing larger as time ticks by.
Click. Click. Click.
“CAN YOU JUST SHUT UP?!” He screams as he punches the wall again, voice tearing through the silence like a chipped blade.
Tears of anger prickle at the edges of his eyes as nails slip beneath his sleeve and begin to dig into delicate skin, streaks of irate red interrupting the plane of white. It won’t stop. It won’t stop. It won’t stop. He wants to puncture his eardrums with a needle. Desires to tear at his skin until nothing but bones remain. The clicking, that cruel, constant, continuous clicking.
Click. Click. Click.
Without a second thought nails dig deeper, nerves set aflame as they’re damaged by his desperate attempt to find relief. It repeats, repeats, repeats, never wavering in frequency or volume. Stop. Stop. Stop. Stop. He can’t to this, teeth tearing into the fragile flesh of his cheeks as blood fills his mouth.
Bzzt. Bzzt.
Instantly his fingers still, thoughts halting as if met by a dam. Trails of tears rapidly cool as grey eyes slowly open, anger and irritation fading just as quickly as they surged. Hesitantly he removes his hand from his wrist to reveal blood under the keratin, skin ravaged from his descent. His hands shake slightly, just enough for him to feel fragile. Slowly he reaches his unbloodied hand into his pocket and pulls his phone out, screen lighting up to present a message asking where he is.
Click. Click. Click.
Silently eyes fall to the ground where a cigarette and lighter lay discarded before coming to his injured wrist and bloody nails. Lungs move almost fearfully with a deep breath, releasing it as quietly as possible. Breathe in, one, two, three. Hold, one, two three. Breathe out, one, two, three and repeat. Tiredly he opens his eyes that had fallen shut against his will and slips his phone back in his pocket, pulls his sleeve down, retrieves his belongings and shoves his bloody hand in his pocket.
And with one final breath he makes his way back to the front of the building.
☆★☆
Silently he stared at the water damaged ceiling of his apartment, the clock beside him filling the room with faint ticks as the seconds went by. It was dark, the only light coming from the full moon that stood atop the world outside the window. The floor though barely lit revealed a packed backpack, shelves empty as cabinets laid open to reveal nothing.
The boy—man now—laid upon the hard ground, the chill of it slowly burrowing into his back. White earbuds sat in his ears, their wire leading to the cracked phone that rested to the right of him arms length away. Music blasted into his ears to fill the suffocating silence as he tapped a knuckle against the floor in time to the beat. Glassy eyes reflected the light of the moon inhumanly as the rest of his body faded into the blanket of darkness.
The clock struck midnight. A screen lit up. An alarm rung. A hand moved. The night fell silent.
The figure stood. A backpack was put on. A door clicked open. A path of light entered. A shadow obstructed. A door closed. The room went dark.
The wind howled. A clock ticked. The floor cooled.
And with one final whisper of the moon the figure left behind his entire world.
♡
The doorbell rings, the sound muffled by the walls. He wipes at his face one last time to ensure no tear tracks remain and places his hands back in his pockets, mentally preparing himself for what will likely be a dinner straight out of hell. The lock clicks and he subconsciously straightens his posture, the door opening to reveal the very woman that invited him. Her hair is down as she wears simple jeans and a button down, so much different than her work attire.
“Took you long enough,” she smiles as she steps in, “hurry in or you might get a cold.”
Click. Click. Click.
He hums noncommittally and enters the apartment, ears already picking up the sound of conversation; three people, two men and one woman. The moment he steps over the threshold his eyes widen as his heart rate picks up, at the table sits two people he really didn’t want to see, eyes of night and obsidian already locked onto him. The urge to run is potent, his body tensing as the urge to scratch resurfaces. He feels like a deer in headlights.
Teeth bite into the ripped flesh of his cheek as he moves to turn to Heewon, plastering a smile on his face.
“Can you show me the bathroom?”
Her eyes narrow slightly, the conversation pausing as Heewon’s husband and the couple watch him. The attention makes him want to scream, hair rising as the muscles in his jaw twitch. He wants them to stop, to have them look away and ignore his existence.
“It’s down the hall to the right.”
“Thank you,” and with that he moves, ignoring the eyes on him.
The instant the door closes he lets out a shaky breath, back leaning against the cool wood, trying to regain himself. This couldn’t be happening, they couldn’t be here. This was just supposed to be a simple dinner to calm Heewon’s worries, not an ambush with the two people he’s hurt most! With the hesitance of a man sent to the gallows he pushes away from the door and comes to stand before the sink.
When his eyes meet his reflection he can’t help but smile weakly, he really does look half dead. His skin is overly pale, under eyes almost black as his cheek bones protrude the slightest bit too much. He raises his hand to brush hair out of his face but pauses, the hand not only has blood beneath its nails but the knuckles are scrapped and bruised.
Click. Click. Click.
Warily he pushes the sleeve to his right arm up to reveal deep scratches, blood already drying. Sighing he takes his coat off and begins to wash the wounds and scrub away the blood. Beyond the door conversations have started up again, but this time they sounded hushed, as if afraid he’d hear. It doesn’t take him long and soon he’s pushing the sleeve of his—thankfully black—button down and retrieving his coat from the ground.
For good measure he flushes the toilet and waits a moment, allowing himself to steal himself in those few precious seconds. Finally, acting far more confident than he feels he exits the bathroom, turning the light off behind him. A smile slides into place, movements calmed and shoulders forcefully relaxed. When he enters the room the conversation doesn’t stop but he can feel the shift of their attention.
Click. Click. Click.
“Sorry about walking through your home with shoes, Heewon-ssi,” he says with a self deprecating chuckle, moving to hang his coat and toe off his shoes.
“Don’t worry about it, now sit down so we can eat,” she tells him as she sets the last dish on the table.
However, before he can even move Sooyoung abruptly stands and crashes into him, arms wrapping around his waist in a vice grip. His heart jolts as lemon fills his nose, her warmth penetrating his chilled skin. Memories flash in his mind making him nauseous, hands moving before he can stop them. One falls to her head as the other presses lightly to her upper back. He stops himself from pulling away and cupping her face with his palm.
Against his better judgement he looks up and meets eyes of obsidian, the owner already standing and making his way toward him. Heewon and her husband watch quietly, it makes him want to lash out but he wills himself not to clench his hands. Sooyoung pulls away a bit and looks up at him with fierce eyes and subconsciously his expression softens. The guilt within his chest screams for him to run.
“You bastard! Leaving us again? What’s wrong with you?! You look like shit too! Are you not taking care of yourself?” She yells at him, jabbing her finger into his chest.
He puts his hands up in surrender, letting her crowd into his space even if it makes him want to crawl out of his own skin. Suddenly he feels a warm hand grab his chin, it being guided to stare into obsidian. Right…there was also him. What a spectacle this must be, not only does he have a best selling author all up in his space but he was also being manhandled by the best streamer in the Korean Peninsula. The thought makes him bite his lip in agitation, the stress and guilt becoming unbearable.
Click. Click. Click.
His teeth bite down harder before he relaxes his jaw slightly, now is not the time to draw blood. Joonghyuk inspects his face closely with that unreadable expression, slowly guiding his face to get a closer look. Impulsively his gaze falls to the other man’s lips. He pulls them away just as quickly.
“How long has it been since you slept properly?” Joonghyuk asks, voice almost inaudible.
Sooyoung grabs his left arm and pulls his hand down from it’s position in the air, he shivers as her thumb grazes over his bruised knuckles. He feels exposed, the pain in his wrist intensifying as every sensation in his body multiplies from awareness. It’s too hot, every place they touch searing with heat. This was one of the reasons he left, the feelings he felt for them something he couldn’t bear.
Click. Click. Click.
It was all too much for him, the eyes of Heewon and Hyunsung, touch of Sooyoung and Joonghyuk and the persistent clicking. He didn’t notice his teeth had begun to sink deeper into the flesh of his bottom lip, that is until Joonghyuk’s thumb moved to lightly pull his bottom lip down, Dokja’s teeth immediately release the flesh so he could gasp in a desperate breath. His gut twists sickeningly, desire beginning to ignite as he tried to smother it.
“Dokja-ah, you’re falling apart,” Sooyoung whispers, and when his eyes drift to hers he feels his heart constrict when he sees midnight eyes filled with worry.
Click. Click. Click.
He exhales sharply, hands clenching and then releasing. The heat was unbearable, body wanting both to push closer but also retreat. Desire and fear warred within his mind, body shivering slightly as a thumb brushed below his eye. He’s allowed this to go on too long.
“I’m fine, I promise,” he smiles as he slowly pulls away from them, taking a step to the side to put distance between them. “We should eat.”
Heewon only watches quietly, eyes seeming to sparkle in the light. Dokja ignores her and turns to Hyunsung instead and bows, the man startles slightly before standing to bow as well.
“It’s nice to meet you, Lee Hyunsung I think it was. I’m Kim Dokja,” he says politely.
“It’s good to meet you too,” he says shyly. “Heewon has said a lot about you.”
The bear of a man takes his seat again, Sooyoung and Joonghyuk following. Dokja could either sit beside Joonghyuk or Hyunsung, he takes the one next to Joonghyuk. It’s easier if he doesn’t have to look at them so he can’t see their worried eyes. They dig into the food, conversation starting to flow between the occupants of the table.
Hyunsung talks to him a bit about the military once he found out he had been in it at some point, though he quickly moves on to converse with Joonghyuk. It goes on for a bit, Joonghyuk and Heewon discussing taekwondo, Sooyoung talking about her newest book, Hyunsung asking about their jobs. Dokja sits quietly, eating slowly and ignoring the feeling in his chest.
Click. Click. Click.
“Dokja, you have a daughter, right?” Sooyoung suddenly says snapping him back to the conversation.
“I do, her name is Biyoo, you met her at the meet and greet.”
“How old is she?” Joonghyuk asks.
“Eight,” he can’t help but smile slightly.
Click. Click. Click.
It quickly fades.
“Does she happen to also like the idol group The Constellations? Mia loves them,” Sooyoung groans.
His heart constricts slightly, do they have a daughter?
“Occasionally though she’s not the biggest fan. Is Mia your daughter?”
“She’s my little sister but we’ve raised her,” Joonghyuk tells him, “she’s nine.”
Click. Click. Click.
His hand pauses, chopsticks hovering in the air momentarily before he continues. It’s quiet for a moment, as if they’re deciding whether or not they want to say what they’re thinking. Finally, Sooyoung the bluntest of them asks it.
“Who’s her mother?”
He frowns, for some reason he doesn’t know how to respond to the question. Should he tell them the whole story or just leave it at the fact she passed away? Unsure he opens his lips and begins to speak slowly.
“Her mother was a woman I had a one night stand with and later became friends with throughout her pregnancy. Her name was Bihyung, she passed during childbirth,” he tells them, it’s not often he speaks of her like this.
Some part of him has this need for him to clear the waters, define the relationship he had with his daughters mother. In the past he didn’t care what people concluded when he told them of her, didn’t care if they thought he was her lover. But now, when faced with his childhood friends he feels the need to set the record straight.
Click. Click. Click.
He had loved her in a way, they both got a job in marketing together around that time and worked well alongside each other. They spoke often of their daughters future, worked out what her schedule would look like, what schools she’d attend and how they’d discipline her. There were times they butted heads, the pair of them gritting their teeth as they got into heated debates but in the end they’d let it go begrudgingly.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Sooyoung consoles.
“What was she like?” Joonghyuk digs.
“Cunning,” he immediately responds. “She could tell the truth in a way it was appealing even if it wasn’t, we worked in marketing together for a bit and she was really good at it. I would almost say she was a scammer if I didn’t know she never told a lie.”
“Ah, so like you?” Sooyoung smirks.
“What do you mean?”
“You forgot he is a lier, Sooyoung,” Joonghyuk replies dryly.
Click. Click. Click.
“Maybe, but he’s a cruelly sweet one.”
“Ain’t that the truth,” Heewon agrees.
Their words make the guilt intensify, it makes him overly aware of every lie he’s ever told them. A part of him wanted to say they didn’t know but he knew that wasn’t the truth. The constant clicking a sign of the fact he was constantly lying. Some part of him wants to defend himself, say he’s not but he has no energy for that.
Click. Click. Click.
He can’t help it and hisses a quiet breath out in irritation, body igniting with the urge to lash out. Briefly he closes his eyes, letting the desire to slam his chopsticks into the table wash away. He wants nothing more to go home and break, his shirt collar too tight, wrist too itchy, skin too hot, clicking too loud, stares too knowing. Just as he had twice before he can feel himself standing before a cliff, wind slowly pushing him closer and closer to the edge.
It doesn’t take him longer than a few seconds to regain what scraps of control that remain, but it takes him just long enough for everyone to start to peer at him with a weird light in their eyes. Slowly he meets Heewon’s eyes and shrugs, moving to take another bite out of his food.
Click. Click. Click.
“Does Mia follow a lot of idol groups?” He asks after swallowing.
Joonghyuk nods.
“Mia and her friend Shin Yoosung are obsessed, they know more idol groups than I know bands it seems. We actually took them to go see The Constellations live just last year.”
He nods, unsure of what he should say. Heewon ends up asking them about the experience, the man beginning to block it out without noticing. Quietly his mind falls to Biyoo, he hopes she’s having fun with his mother. It’s likely she’ll want to spend the night, he couldn’t blame her though, his mother was annoyingly calm. She was the type of person children flocked to.
Click. Click. Click.
So annoying. He gazes down at his empty plate before reaching into his pocket to pull out his phone. The screen lights up, a message appearing from his mother, the words confirming what he already assumed. A pit forms in his stomach regardless, he knows it’s not healthy but he relies on Biyoo to be his anchor, uses the knowledge she sleeps in just the other room to control himself. Without her there’s no knowing what he’ll do, especially not when he’s already beginning to break.
“I should start going,” he says quietly, making sure to plaster an apologetic smile on his lips.
“Already?” Hyunsung asks.
He nods, “It’s getting late and I’ve been a little tired lately.”
Easily he pushes the chair back and stands slowly, he doesn’t want to stumble in front of so many people after all.
Click. Click. Click.
Tch, that’s seriously getting on his nerves.
“Do you need a ride?” Sooyoung suddenly asks as she gets up as well, Joonghyuk following.
“It’s alright,” he smiles, “I can just take the subway.”
“Maybe, but it’s nicer to drive, less cramped.”
“It wouldn’t be a bother,” Joonghyuk adds.
“I’m alright, seriously.”
“We all know that’s a lie, please let us drive you,” she pushes.
He sighs tiredly, he really didn’t have the energy to fight them more. Usually he would say he didn’t want them to cut their time short, but he was aware they wouldn’t let up. Quietly, he meets Heewon’s eyes, slight anger flaring. There was a reason he left them all those years ago, it wasn’t her place to bring them to him. In the end he knew he’d just hurt them again, the scratches on his wrist evidence to that.
Click. Click. Click.
Dokja was not someone you could love without getting hurt, he had known this for years now. Everyone who’s ever cared for him has been cut, none more or as deeply as the two people who stand before him. The only person in his life he hadn’t cut deeply yet was Biyoo, but he knew that was just a matter of time. Now Heewon has reunited them fully and he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to walk away again all while he knows he will only hurt them.
“Okay, we should be going then. Thank you for having us Heewon-ssi and Hyunsung-ssi, the food was good,” he bid goodbye, turning to put on his coat and shoes.