Chapter Text
BEE BEEP BEEP BEE-
Youngjae turned off the blaring alarm fairly quickly, as it had already started to make his head throb. He sat up from the hard mattress and immediately regretted doing so as a sudden wave of nausea swept over him, making him fall back down again.
Once it passed, he got up slowly and shuffled his way to the bathroom in his dorm.
Youngjae stood in front of the mirror and pulled at the bags under his eyes.
He never got enough sleep as stayed awake crying into his pillow every night.
He lifted the shirt he had slept in up and examined the bruises on his chest and stomach. They were blotchy and gross. They completely covered the once smooth and tanned skin of his torso. He couldn't remember when he had last seen himself without bruises.
It must have been just before his mother-
Tears rolled down Youngjae's cheeks. The cheeks that were, according to his bullies (and himself), too fat. The bruises never got to his face. His bullies may be horrid, but they worked just as hard to get into college as Youngjae did, they obviously didn't want to get expelled. That was one of the main reasons Youngjae never tolled any teachers. That, and the fear he had of what they might do to him if he did tell.
He picked up his thick glasses, perched then on his nose and pushed them up to sit snugly in between his eyes. He slipped one of his large hoodies over his worryingly thin form and put on a pair of black jeans and Nike sneakers.
He grabbed his bag and a granola bar on the way out of his dorm. Youngjae was really hungry, but he only ate the granola bar (that did very little for his appetite) because he didn't want to be to fat.
He knew what he was doing wasn't healthy, but he didn't have the motivation to eat properly and start working out.
He barely had the motivation to live, let alone be productive.
He had left early to class in hopes of avoiding as much contact with others as possible, and he succeed. Just about. There were a few people outside smoking who let out wolf whistles as he passed and laughed at him. Ignore them, keep your head down, Youngjae, and maybe they won't-
"Hey, faggot! Get your fat, gay ass back here and greet us like a polite little kitten." One of them called, interrupting his thoughts with their lewd comments. He stopped rushing and turned around, head still bowed towards them.
He bowed "G-Good morning T-Taehyung." Youngjae managed to stutter out towards the one who spoke, Taehyung. He was one of his bullies. Taehyung, along with the others laughed at him and turned away from him.
Another one of them, Jimin, waved his hand dismissively and tolled Youngjae to leave them alone to smoke. Jimin also said that they would see him later with an evil smirk on his annoyingly attractive face. That small comment made Youngjae's blood run cold as he scurried away from them.
He knew exactly what he meant by that, and he was already dreading when they would "see him later". His bruises had barely faded from the last beating.
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Youngjae made his way to his lecture with no trouble after that. He had, as planned, arrived early and caught his professor's attention as he walked in. "Good morning sir." Youngjae said in the cheeriest voice he could muster and plastered one of his practice smiles on his face. " Morning Youngjae, early as usual i see." His professor replied with a small smile on his face. Unlike Youngjae, is smile was genuine.
Most of the Professors liked Youngjae, which, of course, led to more bullying. He was glad the the professors like him, because that meant they started to look out for him. But that also had its down falls.
Once, one of his professors had found him crying in a locked store room. From then on, they always made sure he was ok, which was nice. Until his bullies thought that he had tolled on them and started hurting him at the dorms, because teachers don't go to the dorms. Sometimes they would follow him around on weekends when went to get his groceries for the weekend. But they had stopped doing that so often because they had been by a police officer about why they were, and i quote: "stalking and antagonising a young man."
But Youngjae was trying.
That was all he could do.
That was all he had the power to do.
And it was fine.
He was fine.
If fine meant crying yourself to sleep. Or mourning your dead mother for 10 years now, soon to be 11. Or being kicked so hard you cough up blood.
Then yeah, he was fine.
Even though, in others eyes, he was just as brittle as a thin sheet of glass that could shatter at the slightest touch.
Perhaps that was why the teachers and professors like him. They took pity on him. That they could see through the mask he had made for himself, but not quite enough to really see how broken the glass was.
They only saw the silhouettes of Youngjae's problems.
The dark shadows that could mean everything, or nothing.
Like looking through one of the clouded windows they normally have on meeting room doors.
Youngjae took his seat at the back of the lecture room automatically. He sat there every day. He was pretty sure the seat had moulded slightly to the shape of his butt. Youngjae's dead gaze flickered to the door as it opened and other students filed in, taking their seats.
This is gonna be a good lesson, right?
Youngjae questioned himself. But as the door opened again and 7 late arrivals, known around campus as BTS, walked in he answered his question immediately.
This is not gonna be a good lesson. Not in the slightest.
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