Chapter Text
December 23, 2006
Yeonjun sat alone at the airport. He heard the sounds of planes taking off in the background while he quietly read his book, picking away at a fruit cup he’d bought earlier. Beomgyu had gone home a few days earlier than he, eager to see his family for the holidays, lucky him.
A ding rang out over the intercom.
Good morning passengers, this is the pre-boarding announcement for flight C-15, going from Boston to New York City. We're happily on track for an 8:00 A.M departure and will commence boarding in the next 30 minutes, thank you for choosing Delta.
Honestly, it probably would’ve been quicker to drive– would’ve saved him the hassle of having to arrive at the crack ass of dawn just to get through TSA. The airport was jammed packed, it was the holiday season afterall, he could hardly navigate himself through it with just a backpack on him. It was awful, but he’d left his car up in New York, seeing no real need for it while at school, maybe he’ll drive it down next time.
———————
The waft of weed and smoke hit Yeonjun the second he stepped outside. It was distinctly New York, the cosmopolitan city, always bustling in hustling, filled with sky scrapers and buildings that were under constant renovation or construction. The sound of drills, cranes, tracks, horns— there was not a second of silence; he was home.
Yeonjun silently got into the car his father had sent for him, the driver was a familiar face, someone who’d been working for his family since he was a kid. He greeted the old man at the wheel, sending a small smile and niceties before the conversation fizzled out into silence. His head was soon filled with thoughts of his family, his father. They’d never keep in touch when he was away, it was as if the only time they knew each other was when they were standing face to face, suddenly remembering his existence. Even then, not many words were exchanged, they couldn’t stand to play the game of ‘loving family’ once the cameras were off.
The moments they spent with each other were so few and far between, he couldn’t picture his parents' faces clearly. They faded, blurred, forever disturbed in his memory like the ripples in water. Though, he’d guessed that’d change soon, seeing as the car had come to a stop.
The skyscraper towered over him. A giant– right at home with its brothers and sisters. Making for a city of Behemoths Yeonjun was no stranger to.
As he rose from floor to floor in the elevator, watching the numbers change, so slowly and agonizingly, Yeonjun felt a knot in his stomach tighten. He was driven to the point of violent convulsion, his body pin balling from wall to wall in the enclosed space. He gripped at his neck, pulling, pushing, searching for any relief from the prickle of his skin.
82, 83, 84,
He watched as the numbers passed. He tried to recompose himself, leaning his entire body weight resting on his palms against the cold metal. He breathed– he tried to– and slowly rectified his spine, rising much like a zombie.
97, 98, 99,
He felt as each vertebrae popped into place. Until finally–
100
The doors to the elevator slipped open. It revealed a sterile, white living room, adorned with furniture that was not lived in. Not a single thing was a hair out of its place. The floors shone so brightly he thought it was a vague imitation of what one might see when entering Heaven. Or maybe what Hell looked like disguised as so. Yeonjun shakily stepped out of the elevator, trying to contain his tremble. His eyes wandered around the room, everything was the same as he’d left it, just like it always was.
The faint sound of footsteps approached him, echoing eerily in the tall halls. The figure of his father revealed itself, stern, tall, strict.
“You’re home, Yeonjun,”
———————
The coastal waves splashed against the sand, white sea foam coming and retreating. The ground sunk underneath his feet, he left imprints with each step. The full moon sat high in the sky illuminating the path Yeonjun walked on. There weren’t many people left on the beach, he’d occasionally run into some stragglers here and there, but for the most part it was empty. It was some hours past midnight, Yeonjun had lost track of time while wandering the seemingly endless shoreline. The vibrant teal water under the night sky now resembled an endless abyss, a bottomless pit. He walked into the shallow end, watching as his feet were slowly consumed by the dark water, barely visible. The sea had grown cold in the absence of sunlight. A shiver traveled up Yeonjun’s spine.
“Yo! Yeonjun!” A deep voice broke through. Yeonjun turned his head towards the sound; a boy around his age was running towards him. He was shirtless, only sporting swim trunks and some sandals. The tan on his skin was notable even under the night sky. Yeonjun toppled over into the water as the boy tackled him with a laugh.
The ocean thrashed in Yoenjun’s ears as the boy on top of him kissed him. Nico, an Italian boy he’d met some weeks ago after arriving at his family estate in Portofino. What they had was nothing serious. The two could barely understand each other, and Yeonjun would be headed back to New York in a matter of weeks, but he made the best of it. He let Nico consume him as he bit up his neck and slid his hands down his waist. The two clumsily climbed out of the water while trying their best to keep their hands on each other. The cold sand laid against Yeonjun’s back, he could hardly breathe, the other man was devouring him. He’d never felt so free in his life.
Yeonjun slowly opened the door to the house. It must’ve been around three or four a.m., far too late for him to be coming home. The wooden tiles creaked with each step he took. His shoulders eased up once he reached his room. Though the image of his father standing inside made all the hairs on his body rise.
“Dad,” his father, who’d been looking out the window, turned towards him. It was so dark he couldn’t see what face he was making. His body casted a long shadow.“what…what are you doing here?” No sooner did the words leave his mouth than he felt a raging fist collide against his cheek. Blood, everywhere, out of his nose, inside his mouth. The ringing in his ear and the stinging of his face seemed to match each other's frequency. For a moment it was all dark. And when he could see again– another punch.
“You fucking disgrace—” Yeonjun could hardly hear, bits and pieces came in as he slowly lost consciousness, “A son of mine… a faggot!” He kept beating him, over and over again. “Better off– never born–” Yeonjun’s body laid still on the ground.
———————
Their estate in Portofino was sold after that.
Yeonjun didn’t leave his room that night, he spent the day holed up in his childhood bedroom. It was barren aside from a king size bed, a desk, and a bedside table. He’d taken everything he’d cared about with him when he’d moved and left the rest to be thrown away. It looked more like a prison than a place of rest– it might as well have been.
Oftentimes he resented growing up with the wealth that he did. He never got to experience sneaking out or going door to door to look for other kids to play with. Deep down he knew it was arrogant. Yes his parents hated him, but hell, he wasn’t even disowned, he was sitting in his parents place in the bedroom he grew up in, awaiting to take part in one of the most extravagant celebrations of the year. And after this was all over, he’d get to go home and continue to live off his father’s money. Was he allowed to feel this way?
He tossed and turned under his covers. Despite it being winter, his room was much too hot and a small sweat built up on his back and forehead. He couldn’t breathe. The air, the atmosphere, it was all much too oppressive. He stripped all his blankets off and sat up against his bedframe. He watched the skyline of the city twinkle until he eventually drifted away.