Chapter Text
“You rejected him?” Yeonjun gasped, dramatically dropping the markers he was holding.
“Yeah, I thought it’d be the best if I just told him the truth,” Soobin shrugged, kind of embarrassed. “That’s what he deserves.”
“That’s very wise," Yeonjun smiled and Soobin allowed his shoulders relax a little bit. "You’re a good friend, Soobin."
The two continued working on the paper chains quietly, their own thoughts keeping themselves occupied as they methodically stapled the strips of paper together.
"You know," Yeonjun struck up even further conversation. "I'm surprised you don't reciprocate his feelings."
Soobin's hands went still, "What do you mean..?"
"I mean that you two already act like a couple," Yeonjun suggested, unaware of Soobin's terror. "If you two were to start dating, it's not like anything would change."
Soobin blocked out Yeonjun as he let his eyes drop to the desk below him. The painted, wooden swirls seemed to move on their own as Soobin contemplated everything he said yesterday. Reconsidered every notion.
And the conclusion was more terrifying.
Perhaps, Soobin had been too hasty with his reflections the previous day. Perhaps on purpose as well. Maybe as an excuse to avoid his true feelings. He'd never been the confrontational type--apparently with himself, as well.
And it gutted him.
Yesterday, I told Beomgyu he's nothing more than a friend to me because lying by saying otherwise would've just hurt him more in the long run. But did I still end up lying?
"I mean, who casually cleans up someone's room for them?" Yeonjun kept rambling. Soobin wished he'd shut up.
I can't tell if I felt anything, but could my actions say otherwise? Is Yeonjun-hyung right? I've never been the emotionally intelligent type, so it's totally possible I've just been unaware of what I was truly feeling. Because he's right, I've done things for Beomgyu that no regular person would do for a simple friend.
"And the way you guys are always all over each other. It makes me want to call you guys a cringy couple already!"
Have I just been obtuse?
"The way you always look at him when you're lost in thought, it's so obvious you find security and comfort in him."
Maybe trying won't hurt. Maybe, if I just explain to him my idea, we could go steady as some sort of trial. And if I end up liking it, we continue as a couple, and if I don't, we continue as friends.
"You may not know this, but the way you speak of him is affectionate on a level I've never seen before. And Beomgyu does the exact same for you! You guys have perfect chemistry."
Am I just thinking all of this because I want to make Beomgyu feel better?
"You're usually so closed off and cold, it's so cute to see him warm you up. You become so selfless when it comes to Beomgyu, it almost makes me jealous."
No, this isn't out of pity. This situation has just required me to do an insane and overwhelming amount of mediation I'm not used to. So it's natural I get confused. Maybe that's why I should go through with the trial plan.
"You guys have opposite interests, though. And even personalities. The only similarity you guys share is your writing styles--ironic considering what club you're in. But didn't you tell me that one time that you believe in some sort of 'opposites attract' theory? That you prefer people who are the opposite of you?"
It seems too cruel, though. If I really did love him, wouldn't I just know it?
"He's totally your type, and I think you know that too. You're just too scared to admit it."
If I didn't love him, would I be torturing myself like this?
“Speaking of Beomgyu, where is he?" Yeonjun slammed his fist onto the spot on the desk Soobin had his vision locked on. Soobin jumped with a sharp inhale. "Don’t you two usually walk to school together?”
“Oh, sorry, I meant to mention it earlier but he overslept so he’s coming in later," Soobin stammered, his face still hot. "Not too much, though."
“Ah, that makes sense considering he hasn’t been sleeping well lately,” Yeonjun commented. “I’d scold him, but I’m concerned it’s related to his depression. If it were up to him he'd lay down and never wake up.”
Soobin stilled. His conversation with Beomgyu from the other day flooded his memory. “He- he told you about it?"
“I've known since we met our first year here," Yeonjun spoke as if it was something to brag about. "But it’s been getting worse recently. He only tells me about it after I badger him, so I just thought it was a guilt-tripping mechanism, but he's definitely telling the truth."
“He didn't tell me until recently…” Soobin’s voice barely rose above a whisper.
“He doesn’t like talking about it, that bastard. Always putting others before himself when he shouldn’t,” Yeonjun gave Soobin an unreadable face. Soobin nodded in shame.
“Oh! Do you want to read the poems the others submitted?” Yeonjun clapped his hands as if a lightbulb went off in his head.
“Sure,” Soobin dropped his scissors, hoping to distract himself from the sinking feeling in his stomach. But he couldn't shake a vague urge bubbling to the surface.
Yeonjun rushed over to the podium where he swiftly pulled out four sheets of notebook paper from the top and ran back over to Soobin. “Here they are. Can you guess which one’s mine?”
Soobin can immediately recognize the one on the top as Yeonjun’s with its unique formatting. Yeonjun had always been artistically bold and creative. The next two are obviously Kai’s and Taehyun’s since they have the same topic. Not to mention, Kai had very distinctive, cursive handwriting and Taehyun always wrote with his signature bubbly manuscript.
"I guess they're still competing over who's the best poet," Soobin smiled to himself.
The final poem is what really caught Soobin’s attention, though.
“What’s this one?” Soobin thought aloud as he begins to read it.
Obviously, by process of elimination, it was Beomgyu's. But the disturbing appearance made Soobin want to believe otherwise.
Soobin felt like he couldn't breathe. Yeonjun immediately noticed.
“What’s wrong?” he asked. A lack of concern was evident in his voice, but Soobin was too worried about something else to dwell on that.
“Beomgyu’s poem…” Soobin struggled to form words. “It’s nothing like he’s ever written before.”
“I know, I thought it was pretty creepy,” Yeonjun grimaced. “I think he took Kai’s suggestion to get into horror.”
Yeonjun suddenly looked over at Soobin, “You should-“
Before Yeonjun could finish his sentence, Soobin flew out of the club room.
———
Soobin’s knuckles met the same hard wooden door in the same way they did earlier that morning. He waited for a response in silence accompanied by the rustling of leaves and birds chirping--typical spring sounds. Spring was Beomgyu’s favorite season.
After a couple of minutes of no response, Soobin knocked again and shouted, “Beomgyu, it’s Soobin. You need to come help prep for the festival!"
That's not what he was really worried about, but he needed to lure Beomgyu out, not scare him further into his house.
Again, there was no response, leaving a strange feeling in Soobin’s chest. “Choi Beomgyu answer the door!” Soobin raised both of his fists and threw his entire body weight into the door.
Concerned and frustrated, Soobin reached for the door knob, half-expecting it to just twist and not do anything. However, to his surprise, the door swung open, granting him passage into the dim house. In the same way it did that weekend.
Soobin cautiously walked in as if it was some sort of trap. He took off his shoes and backpack off as he scanned his surroundings. All of the lights were off with the morning sun coming in from the windows being the only source of light. It made sense considering Beomgyu’s parents went to work very early.
After settling his things next to Beomgyu’s, he shuffled down a long hallway, mixed feelings still squirming inside of him. He knew Beomgyu was probably just sleeping, but after hearing what both Beomgyu and Yeonjun said, he was worried that it was because of his depression, and he didn't want Beomgyu to spiral alone any longer.
Once he made his way upstairs, he reached the door littered in stickers and pictures, a signature Beomgyu mark, and paused. His breath was coming in shorter increments, and his heart was thumping louder than ever before.
Why am I so anxious? It’s just Beomgyu.
His stiff arm slowly extended out to the door.
“Beomgyu? It’s Soobin,” he said softly as he knocks. As a sickening wave of deja vu washed over him, Soobin was met with silence. The complete opposite of how things went down over the weekend. He sat in agonizing wait, hoping to hear Beomgyu's sighs footsteps approach the door from the other side.
Not hearing me from outside is normal, but right in front of his bedroom door? He’s probably just a heavy sleeper, right?
In a moment of relief, Soobin immediately considered the idea that Beomgyu could simply be in the bathroom, rushing to get ready for school like he always had. Soobin turned his head only for his heart to drop to his stomach as he sees the bathroom door wide open at the end of the hallway. The light was off, indicating no life in the room.
Soobin turned back to the door in front of him and immediately begins knocking again, still clinging onto the last bit of composure he had, “Beomgyu, wake up, idiot.”
Silence again. But it was more chilling.
I didn’t want it to have to come this, this has to be an insane breach of privacy, right? But he’s left me no choice.
Soobin held his breath as his hand reached for the doorknob. He gently opened the door.
“Beomgy-“
Oh, how he wished he never opened that door.
No body was on the bed sleeping. No body was sitting at the desk. No body was doing literally anything else on the ground.
But there was a body dangling from the ceiling.
Soobin's best friend, his partner, his soulmate, was right in front of him, hanging from the ceiling.
Dead.
His skin was pale, and that paleness alone emitted the cold his deceased body held. His eyes were dull, the crystalline blue now reminiscent of overcasted skies.
Silent tears formed in nanoseconds as Soobin's knees gave out, toppling him backwards as his mouth was left permanently open. He grasped onto the doorframe to prevent him from hitting the floor, but the sudden sweat coating his palms made him lose his grip, sending him tumbling into the wall of the hallway. Even from there, he couldn't stop looking at the corpse of his friend. He couldn't escape the sight. His mind, his heart wouldn't let him.
“What the fuck?” he cursed to himself, his voice breathy and hoarse. “This can’t be real. This can’t be real.”
He stood up with wobbly knees as he stumbled forward back into the bedroom, his eyes never leaving Beomgyu. His world was spinning, like nothing felt real. He didn't want to believe it was real.
“He wouldn’t… Beomgyu wouldn’t….” Soobin choked on his own words as air was violently being punched in and out of him. He didn't even realize that he was actively sobbing.
His hyperventilating only worsened as he continued to stare at his dead friend: the dullness of his eyes, his bloodied fingers, his pale skin somehow paler than usual. It all made Soobin’s head pound. Short, guttural screams of utter disbelief and raw pain scratched his throat as they forced their way out of his system.
“I told him I’d be there for him..” Soobin finally allowed himself to cry, at least to his knowledge. “I told him everything would be okay… he agreed. He said he trusted me.”
The silence that met him felt like a thousand blades pierced his skin.
“So why,” Soobin screamed. “Why did he do this?!”
Soobin’s sobs echoed in the empty house as he brought his hands to wipe his tears and hide himself from his own sins laid in front of him. It’s the first time he ever looked away from Beomgyu since opening that door.
Soobin’s mind suddenly flashed back to the day before.
“I... I rejected him when he needed me the most,” the guilt and blame finally settling into Soobin's mind. A mortal wound. “Why- why was I so selfish?"
Self-deprecating thoughts and guilt flooded Soobin’s senses on top of the newfound grief, tearing apart his soft heart even more. The pain was unbearable.
“Maybe if I just spent more time with him,” Soobin continued to let out gut-wrenching sobs, but instead of relief, all he met was more anguish and sorrow. “Maybe if I just heard him out more. I- I could have prevented this!” Soobin suddenly shrieked. “I know I could’ve prevented this!"
Soobin continued to cry out and scream at the world and himself for letting things come to this. Beomgyu was never coming back. He’d never hear his contagious laughter, see his adorable smile, endure his silly shenanigans that never failed to out a smile on his face. In just a matter of minutes, so much had been taken from Soobin. Everything had been taken from Soobin.
Once he somewhat calmed down, Soobin looked up from his hands and looked towards his desk, wondering if Beomgyu left behind a note. Soobin was desperate to get as much more of Beomgyu as he hold.
To his great joy--or turmoil, he didn't know what the note's existence implied at the exact moment, there was a piece of paper resting on top, so Soobin shot up and clumsily made his way over to the desk and peered over the piece of loose leaf. He was right, it was in fact a note. Soobin’s face crumbled again until he saw a pair of scissors in a mug full of stationary.
Abandoning the note, and certainly without thinking, Soobin ran over and grabbed the scissors. He immediately fumbled with the chair left on its side, presumably from when Beomgyu stepped off, and got on top of it himself.
He almost fell off, though, when he found himself face to face with Beomgyu. But it wasn't Beomgyu. It didn't radiate the same warm happiness, instead it was eerie and cold. Freezing cold. The face he was eye-to-eye with was nothing but a dead, rotting shell of the boy he loved loves.
With nothing but adrenaline supporting him, he began to slice the rope open. It was tough, and Soobin’s fingers started to scrape and bleed, but his blood was pumping too hard for him to notice.
Before he could even realize the rope had been cut, Beomgyu’s body fell to the ground with a thud. It was quite soft, as if Beomgyu was a feather.
"Why eat?"
Soobin looked down at the limp body and a sudden sob escaped his throat, interrupting his shocked daze. Every intense feeling his body numbed broke through the invisible barrier.
He jumped off and kneeled next to Beomgyu’s body, taking the corpse into his arms.
“He’s still warm,” Soobin whispered to himself, sobs threatening to explode from within him again. But he didn't want to disturb Beomgyu.
Soobin grabbed the scissors on the floor next to him and began to cut the rope around Beomgyu’s neck like he did from the ceiling. In hindsight, it’d probably be more effective to just untie it, but Soobin wasn’t thinking straight.
The rope tore in half, immediately becoming undone across his entire neck, revealing a bloody and dark bruise. A sinister purple ring. Soobin had always liked the color purple until now.
He caressed the silky locks soothingly and rubbed his thumbs across the jagged, broken skin on Beomgyu’s hands.
Just then, the sobs began again. Without him even knowing they were coming. He barely even knew they stopped. He cried and cried and cried until his tears were enough to fill the whole room up. He pleaded to nothing, screamed at nothing, as his whole world lied limp in his arms, unmoving. Never to move again.
And it was all Soobin's fault.